


Little Bird Blue

by AlexiaBlackbriar13



Series: Olicity AU Series [8]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: AU, Affection, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Gift Fic, Gift for thatmasquedgirl, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Felicity, Original Team Arrow, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Oliver, Shapeshifter Felicity Smoak, Shapeshifting, Slow Burn (as much as there can be in 5 chapters), Team Arrow, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, emotional breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 07:28:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 44,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8003767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaBlackbriar13/pseuds/AlexiaBlackbriar13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver finds an injured American Kestrel trapped in the Foundry. Taking it in and nursing it back to health, Oliver develops probably his most honest connection and relationship with the young bird. </p><p>Little does he know that the kestrel is actually a certain blonde IT girl with glasses having shapeshifted and got stuck in bird form. The adventures that follow, and the eventual reveal of Felicity’s abilities, changes Team Arrow significantly for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ~ Part 1 ~

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thatmasquedgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatmasquedgirl/gifts).



> And here is the shapeshifter!Felicity fic :) My gift fic for thatmasquedgirl, my wonderful amazing internet wifey! Hope you all enjoy :)
> 
> There are five parts, the fifth being an epilogue, and it is complete :) If you guys could let me go what you think and comment below, that would be greatly, greatly appreciated!! Please leave kudos, and feel free to send me any messages.

* * *

There was an irritating fluttering coming from the darkest corner of the Foundry, and it was driving Oliver crazy. After ten minutes or so of having that noise echo around his base while he trained, doing some inverted crutches from the structural beams and heading up and down the salmon ladder several times, he couldn’t stand it anymore. Shrugging on a top and wiping his face free of sweat with a towel, he grabbed one of his combat knives and advanced towards that corner quietly, keeping on the balls of his feet.

“Oh, hello,” he murmured, frowning in befuddlement and astonishment at the sight of a small yet beautiful-looking bird of prey flapping frantically, trying to get off the ground but struggling due to a few broken feathers and a hurt wing. “How’d you get in here?” _I’m pretty sure I patched all of those holes up._

The bird gave a chitter as he approached slowly, sounding alarmed and scared, so Oliver very carefully wrapped the towel around the small bird, pressing its wings to its body and lifting it up, making sure its feet were supported. Calming slightly, the bird gave another chirp and he couldn’t help but smile. This tiny bird didn’t seem at all afraid of him anymore, and he ran a finger down its feathers, marvelling at the softness of them. Huh. It wasn’t flinching at his touch either. It looked wild, but maybe there was some chance it was an escaped pet or something. Well… wherever the bird came from, he couldn’t let just throw it back out onto the street - it was obviously hurt. He would have to care for it.

“What’s that?” Diggle questioned on walking into the Foundry that evening to find the bird of prey nested in a towel in a small cardboard box on the counter next to Oliver. Said archer was researching sprained wings and broken feathers online, every so often glancing into the box to check on the rescue.

“She has wings, Dig,” Oliver deadpanned. “What exactly do you think she is?”

“No, I mean -” His bodyguard waved a hand. “Why is it here?”

“Found her at the back in the corner,” Oliver replied, turning back to his computer screen. “And yes, it’s a she. To be exact, she’s a female American Kestrel.”

Diggle raised an eyebrow. “A Kestrel? Aren’t kestrels meant to be bigger than that?” He squinted down into the box. “She’s tiny.”

 _Hey, don’t judge the bird._ “She’s only young,” Oliver replied, somewhat defensively. _So what if she’s small? You picking on her because she’s small, now?_ American Kestrels were meant to be anyway. She was perfect how she was.

“Whatever. I’ll take her to the vet or something.”

Diggle made to pick up the box, but then Oliver leapt up and shoved him away roughly, standing in a protective stance in front of the bird. The bodyguard backed off as the vigilante growled, clenching his fists and looking like he was about to murder him.

Quickly raising his hands, Diggle corrected swiftly, “Or not.”

“She’s staying here,” Oliver said, voice turning soft as he wheeled around and, pulling on his leather gloves, he gently coaxed the young kestrel into his hand so he could hold her a little closer. The kestrel chittered, basking herself in his body heat as he gazed down at her, marvelling at all the colours in her feathers, her intelligent eyes. “We’ll nurse her back to health.” And if that took months, then he was prepared to stick with her during that time.

“And when are we gonna have time to do that?” Diggle scoffed.

Oliver shot him a glare before turning back to gently running one finger down the kestrel’s back. His lips twitched upwards as a tremor seemed to run through her body and she shifted in his hand, wings spreading and tucking again, to get closer. She already trusted him. “We’ll take turns,” he ordered, his voice so incredibly soft that Diggle looked honestly startled at it. “Make sure she’s comfortable and healing. Teach her to fly again if she forgets.”

“You’re serious.”

Oliver turned suddenly icy cold, stone hard eyes on his partner. _What, you think I’m joking?_ “Yes.”

Diggle just swallowed and blinked, giving a small shrug. “Okay, Oliver. Okay.”

* * *

_I am such an idiot_ , Felicity cursed herself, hopping around trying to observe her injured wing. _Such a fucking idiot. Should have known better. Did know better. I'm never saying ‘fuck you’ to logic again._ She scowled at the sprained limb as much as she could with a beak, in bird form. Of course, she had to get stuck in her shifted bird form, just when she was investigating the vigilante’s top secret base in the basement of a steel factory. Of course, she had to get injured so she couldn’t escape by flying out of said factory.

Her father had been the one to pass on the shifter blood to her, her mother had told her, when she had first fully shifted into her American Kestrel form at the age of nine, her dead-beat dad not there to guide her through the terrifying process. Whilst he had been a bald eagle, her much smaller, sleeker form was more elegant, and defined her personality perfectly. She had learnt to master her wings by the age of nine, and when she had arrived at MIT she had searched online for any other bird shifters out there, who she could possibly enjoy her gift with, but of course, she found none. The ability to shift was passed down through very rare, secret bloodlines, and often shifters were killed if they were discovered.

Felicity only really used her shifting ability when she really, really felt the need to, and stuck in the basement of a steel factory that also served the purpose of the Hood’s lair, the IT girl was only reminded why shifters were encouraged to head out into the wilderness to shift, and not remain in the city, where they could easily be injured or trapped. Just like she had just been, now, sporting a sprained wing, broken feathers and unable to get out of the vigilante’s freaking hermit cave.

The entrance door beeped, and Felicity fluttered nervously, unprepared to face a human in this form. She tried to stay out of sight, epically failing in that regard, but _Oliver Queen, he’s the vigilante? I FUCKING CALLED IT, PEOPLE!_ was approaching her, looming above her. She let out a squeak of alarm, trying to flutter away.

She ended up in the corner of the room, trapped there as the human knelt down and gently scooped her up with his large, calloused hands in a towel. At first she panicked, but then Felicity settled slightly, her heart still beating a mile a minute but feeling more reassured by the fact that he was supporting her feet, not letting her fall. Felicity would have expected his touch to be rough and aggressive, but he was incredibly tender, recognising she was injured and couldn’t fly, brushing her fingers against her soft feathers in such a way that the kestrel shivered.

“Sorry, sorry,” the human apologised softly as he jolted her injured wing when sitting down in a chair.

 _Shit, that hurt! Stop touching my sprained wing, you dolt!_ Of course, he couldn’t understand her as a bird. She rolled her eyes. Oliver pulled out a cardboard box from underneath a counter, which was being used to store materials for making arrows with, emptying it and laying a towel at the bottom before gently dropping her inside.

“There we go. Safe. Let’s look up what kind of bird you are, shall we?”

At first, Felicity was alarmed by being contained in the box, but it was warm and the towel was soft, and seeing no way out, she nested into the cloth, tucking her wings in and waited, content with watching Oliver’s expression as he tapped away at a computer that looked so out of date, it made Felicity physically want to throw up. His face was all hard lines and tension, but there was a deeper kindness and compassion she could see within his stunningly blue eyes that, for some reason, caused Felicity to relax.

“What’s that?” came the booming voice of another human and Felicity startled, wings snapping and flapping twice to try and instinctively lift her into the air, and then she hissed as pain lanced through her hurt wing. Goddamn humans, always appearing out of nowhere and making her jump.

Oliver gave a sharp bark of laughter. “She has wings, Dig,” he pointed out. “What exactly do you think she is?”

Looking annoyed, the man, Diggle - _oh, it’s his bodyguard! I remember him now!_ \- snorted. “No, I mean, why is it here?”

“Found her at the back in the corner,” the vigilante replied, sounding focused on something else as he resumed typing on the keyboard, and without pausing, he continued, “And yes, it’s a she. To be exact, she’s a female American Kestrel.”

Felicity was honestly surprised for a moment. She hadn’t expected Oliver to find out her species so quickly, even looking it up online. There were lots of birds that fitted her description. She was momentarily impressed, until:

“A Kestrel?” Diggle chuckled, gazing down at her, looking somewhat amused. “Aren’t kestrels meant to be bigger than that? She’s tiny.”

Excuse me! she squawked in protest. _That’s really rude! How would YOU like it if I said YOU were tiny? Not that you are tiny, that is, you’re huge, especially when I’m in bird form, but even when I’m human as well, you’re pretty big, and when I say big, I mean tall, not -_

“She’s only young,” Oliver cut into her mental rambling, sounding a little bit irritated with his bodyguard.

 _Yes! Thank you, Oliver! Thank you for defending me! I’m young - wait… was that an insult? Are you trying to suggest that I am a BABY KESTREL, mister!? That is SO RUDE!_ Shifting side to side, she trilled furiously. _I am twenty three years old!_

Both of the humans ignored her, to her anger. But suddenly, Diggle reached forwards to pick up the box, his hands looking absolutely massive, like huge claws coming down to snap her her, from Felicity’s view, making her panic slightly. “Whatever. I’ll take her to the vet or something,” the human said dismissively.

Felicity was about to make another escape attempt, but then her view of the bodyguard was blocked when Oliver stepped in front of her protectively, stopping Diggle from getting to the box. Surprised, the kestrel buffed her chest out, shuffling on the blanket. She hadn’t seen that coming - _that, being the vigilante coming to her defence._

“Or not.” Diggle said, backing off.

“She’s staying here,” Oliver demanded. Then, startling Felicity once again, his hands dipped down into the box and lifted her out. This time though, Felicity didn’t struggle, just sat in his hands as he supported her and brought her up to his chest, holding her there. Basking in the comforting, soothing heat that seemed to be coming from the vigilante’s chest, Felicity ruffled her feathers, for the first time feeling actually quite safe in a human’s hands. “We’ll nurse her back to health.”

Diggle sounded exasperated as he questioned, “And when are we gonna have time to do that?”

 _Yeah, that’s right!_ Felicity huffed smugly, as Oliver shot the bodyguard a glower. _The big, bad vigilante’s on my side._ The lone finger returned, stroking down her back, and the sensation of human contact, safe human contact that wasn’t an attempt to hurt her, made Felicity arch into the touch, shifting in his hand to get closer as she readjusted her wings, another shiver running down her spine.

“We’ll take turns. Make sure she’s comfortable and healing. Teach her to fly again if she forgets.”

“You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

_Haha, take that, Mr Bodyguard! I’m sticking around, you can’t get rid of me that easily!_

“Okay, Oliver… okay…”

The vigilante rolled his eyes above her and turned away, keeping his movements slow enough that Felicity didn’t startle. She appreciated it - in her bird form, she was always more skittish, wanting to take flight at the lightest of scary noises, but she knew that if she tried to do that now, with her sprained wing and snapped feathers, she would only end up - well, _splat._

“I’ll do most of the work,” he said. “You’ll just have to look after her when I go out in the field. Besides, she’s a sweetheart anyway.”

_Oh, maybe with you, mister, but if that bodyguard of yours comes anywhere near me with those freakishly large hands, my beak will be drawing blood, I’m warning you now. I am not afraid to peck the shit out of people._

“Huh. I don’t think she likes you,” Oliver observed, and Felicity frowned and glanced up at him. He was gazing down at her amusedly. “Her feathers are all bristly.”

“Isn’t that reassuring,” Diggle muttered. “I’m gonna head out and bring back some takeout, you want anything?”

“I’m fine, but could you stop by a store and pick up some food for her, please?”

“Jesus, I’m Oliver Queen’s bodyguard and he wants me to go out and buy freaking birdseed for his pet vulture.”

 _EXCUSE ME?_ Felicity shrieked, her one good wing flapping frantically now. She was aware Oliver was trying to keep a careful hold of her, making sure not to drop her, but she was so angry at his bodyguard that she didn’t even care that the vigilante’s fingers were digging into her sides a little too hard. _First off, I do not eat fucking BIRDSEED! I AM A BIRD OF PREY, I EAT MEAT. And secondly, I am NOT a VULTURE! How would YOU like to be called a vulture, huh?! Yeah, it’s not nice when you’re the one being insulted, is it, big arms? Wait - would that be an insult or a compliment?_

“I think you made her angry.”

Diggle scowled back at them both as he climbed the stairs. “She’s a bird, she can’t understand anything we’re saying.”

“It said online that her wild diet consists of small rodents and insects, so maybe go to the pet store two blocks down from Merlyn Global and see if you can pick anything up there.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to buy frozen mice and dead grasshoppers for Oliver Queen,” Diggle grumbled under his breath. He vanished through the door immediately after that, so Felicity finally dropped her furious stance, huffing. Oliver’s bodyguard was mean.

As soon as the door clicked shut, however, Oliver moved over to the countertop containing his computer set-up, drawing up a chair with one hand as the other cradled her, before he set Felicity down. “Dig thinks you can’t understand me. Oh, but I think you can,” he murmured, smiling at her as he began researching again online about sprained wings. “You’re a pretty intelligent girl, aren’t you?”

_Well, I don’t like to brag, but -_

“And I bet you know it as well.”

 _Hey!_ She nipped at his hand with her beak, hard enough to make him draw back with a quiet hiss of pain but not enough to break skin. _Don’t be cheeky._

“You’re cheeky.” _Oh, I’m the cheeky one, mister?_ “You’ll fit right in here. Dig particularly enjoys calling me out on my shit, I imagine you would do the same. I can get stubborn sometimes.” He paused for a second, reading whatever was on screen. Felicity attempted to hop sideways so she could look too. He was scrolling down a vet’s website on sprained wings. “Okay, this says to keep you in a warm, contained space with some water. The torn ligaments causing the sprain will heal by themselves, so you’re just not allowed to fly for a while. I should wrap your wing, make sure you can’t move it. We’ll have to get some medicine for pain management as well.” He glanced down at her with narrowed eyes. “Your broken feathers, however…” He clicked onto a new page. “Since none of the feather shafts are broken, we just have to wait for your next moult to replace the damaged features. It says here birds your size moult twice or three times a year… and who knows when your next one will be?”

Felicity did. She had moulted in late October to come into her thicker winter feathers, but since they were having an unusually warm winter in Starling, she was probably due to come into her spring and summer feathers earlier, in a fortnight’s time. And whilst a normal bird her size would take around two months to fully moult, due to her accelerated shifter healing rate, her moult would be over in only two weeks. In a month’s time, her wing would be better and her new feathers would come in - she would be up in the air again.

Oliver left her sitting on the counter as he crossed the room, picking up a reasonably deep tray and lining it with the towels from the box. He set it down next to Felicity expectantly. If she were in human form, she would have raised her eyebrows, but instead she just hopped into the tray and let him carry her over to a counter in the corner. She realised why instantly - hot water pipes ran upwards at this point, radiating a comfortably amount of heat. As the kestrel settled, Oliver brought over a bowl of cool water, setting it down next to the tray.

“There,” he said, sounding satisfied. “Warm place to stay, and water. Diggle will be back with some food soon, if you’re hungry.”

Hell yeah, she was hungry. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday, skipping out on breakfast and lunch in favour of tracking the Hood to his lair. Chirping, Felicity spread her good wing, frowning when Oliver tutted in response, his finger pushing it back in.

“You’re not meant to move much,” he said gently. “The website said to put you in a travel cage or box, but I know you’d hate that. You can’t go around flapping about or try and fly whilst you’re injured, okay? Let me go and grab some bandages, and I’ll wrap that wing for you.”

Felicity wanted to roll her eyes. Oliver returned and quickly wrapped a bandage in a figure eight sort of shape around her sprained wing to bind it to her body, making sure she couldn’t move it. It was pretty annoying, even though Felicity knew it would help her heal.

“I’ve gotta do some work now, so just stay here and rest, alright?” The vigilante tenderly stroked down her back again, lips quirking up in a way that made Felicity think that he didn’t allow himself to smile often. “You’ll get better soon.”

As he walked off, back towards the computer setup, Felicity ruffled her feathers happily and began constructing a small nest out of the towels, dragging them into place with her talons. As soon as it was made, she drank a little water and settled into it snugly, enjoying the warmth. Yeah, this wasn’t so bad. Of course, she was worried about the fact that she was going to essentially disappear from existence for a few weeks - god, her job, what about her job?! She’d be fired for _sure_ \- but this really wasn’t the worst place to stay and recover. She couldn’t shift back, but she knew that Oliver would at least care for her when she was in her bird form, and wouldn’t let her starve or get hurt again.

Yeah, this really wasn’t so bad.

* * *

Oliver absolutely hated to admit it, but the little American Kestrel had somehow managed to worm her way into his heart within a week. She had a fiery personality, having quite a temper, especially with Diggle, but also acting quite sassy with the archer himself as well. It was endearing how she tried to stand up to his bodyguard, screeching at him when Diggle tried to feed her and snapping her beak when he changed her towels. His bodyguard, however, was more pissed at the fact that the kestrel seemed to absolutely adore Oliver. It amused the vigilante to no end that the kestrel had no qualms whatsoever with Oliver handling her, but threw a bloody fit whenever Diggle tried to.

A week into her recovery, Oliver found himself talking to her when they were alone in the Foundry. As he crafted his arrows and researched targets, the vigilante just talked, sometimes about the most random of things, the words coming out of his mouth openly and easily, unlike when he spoke to other human beings. He didn’t feel like he had to hide the darkness inside of him with the bird, and ended up spewing a lot of stuff about his emotions about the island and his return, ranting about his family and the pressures of readapting to society. Kestrels were, it turned out, very good listeners.

Humming to himself, Oliver descended down the stairs to the lair in the early afternoon, planning on moulding some new arrowheads, when a loud happy chirp jerked him out of his musings. A grin appearing on his face, he crossed the room to greet the kestrel, who was fluttering both her wings, but remaining in her tray, at his approach.

_You excited to see me? I’m excited to see you too._

Oliver no longer needed his leather gloves to hold her; she never dug her talons in, and he always held her carefully so he never got scratched. She chirped again, preening her feathers - she had torn the bandage off her wing yesterday night, refusing to have her wing bound any longer. Flapping her good wing as she hopped up onto his wrist, her intense falcon eyes blinked at him.

Smiling, he murmured softly, “Hello, my little _соколица_.” Oliver had never named her, but calling her by what kind of animal she was in Russian was good enough for him. He wasn’t very imaginative. Taking a hold of her sprained wing gently, he muttered, “This seems to be a lot better. We’re just waiting for your moult now. Then you’ll be able to fly again.”

And then she would be gone. Oliver tried to keep his expression indifferent as he raised his hand so that she could hop on up to sit on his shoulder, like she had been doing for the last two days now, whenever he was researching targets. The archer had grown fond of the kestrel, and to be honest, he hated the idea of her leaving. He knew that she wasn’t a pet, she was a wild bird of prey and she needed to be out in the open, flying free, but a selfish part of him wanted to keep her all to himself.

Oliver was half an hour into looking up a guy called Roger Matthews, who was embezzling money from a local leukaemia charity, when the entrance door hissed and clunking sounded on the stairs, signifying they had a visitor. The kestrel began screeching angrily in his ear, making Oliver grin. She always knew how to give Diggle a warm welcome.

“You know, someday, I’m gonna pluck that chicken of yours,” Diggle grumbled, coming up behind him. “She hates me.”

“She just got the wrong impression of you when you first met,” Oliver threw back. _You were rude to her, what else do you expect?_ “Take a look at this guy. I’m thinking I can maybe take down two or three of the smaller targets on the list, that aren’t as big of threats as the others - this guy being my first pick.”

Diggle read over the information, saying, “Yeah, you can take him down. Two million stolen yearly, from a leukaemia charity? He’s fair game, man.”

Oliver only then noticed the pet store bag his bodyguard was carrying. “You brought her a snack.” _You pretend you’re not fond of her, but then you go and guy her special treats? You liar, Dig._

“Yeah, well, didn’t want her pecking my fingers off when I feed her later.” Diggle fished out the container full of frozen mice, grimacing as he handed it over.

As Oliver used a pair of tongs to pick out one of the mice, placing it on a piece of kitchen roll taken from the small kitchen area Diggle had set up, he reeled back in surprise when the kestrel jumped into the air and fluttered down to the counter, immediately attacking the mouse and scarfing it down, before looking back up at him innocently.

_Oh my god._

“Did she - just -?”

“Yeah,” Oliver said, dumbfounded. “She just flew. Well, fluttered. She won’t be able to fly properly until her new feathers have moulted in.”

“The sooner she’s able to fly again, the sooner we can get her out of here,” Diggle said, drawing up his own chair. _Don’t say that. Please don’t say that._ Oliver must have made a face at that, because his bodyguard narrowed his eyes at him. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” Oliver turned back to the screen, swallowing.

“You just looked all - all sad and broody. You’re not…” Diggle trailed off, before exclaiming in mock horror, “Oh god, the great terrifying Oliver Queen can’t have got attached to a little kestrel, could he?”

“Shut up,” Oliver scowled.

“You have. Oh, this is hilarious.” Diggle looked like this was the most entertaining thing he had heard all week. “You’ve got yourself a pet.”

Oliver grumbled. “She’s not a pet.” _She’s a magnificent bird of prey, she’s nothing like a pet._ He quickly changed the subject, “Hey, did you go to Queen Consolidated like I asked you to?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t find Felicity Smoak anywhere,” Diggle shook his head. Oliver frowned, his attention half split between Diggle’s confused face and the kestrel, who had just began fluttering her wings crazily. “I asked around, apparently she hasn’t been into work all week. Maybe she took a vacation or something.”

“That’s odd,” Oliver muttered. “I would’ve thought she’d inform the company if she was going away.” Strange. Felicity didn’t seem like the kind of person to spontaneously take leave, without giving a notice. She was sweet, even Oliver had to admit she was cute, and it was weird that she had randomly vanished. “Huh. I’ll look into it later.” Reaching out for the madly jumping around bird, he questioned, “You okay? What’s got into you?”

“Maybe she’s hungry,” Dig suggested.

“No, that’s not it.” Oliver frowned. She was still hopping around, minutely flapping her wings, as if trying to get their attention. _What is she trying to tell me? Is something wrong?_ “She’s never done this before.”

He would have questioned her behaviour more, if the computer hadn’t beeped, alerting him to information that one of the people of the List was being taken to court by Laurel. Thinking that she was tired, the vigilante carried the kestrel back over to her tray to allow her to rest, before starting to look into the man Laurel was pursuing.

He was so focused on the computer screen he didn’t notice the faint blurriness of the air surrounding the kestrel as, for one, brief, fleeting second, the bird of prey’s form flickered into that of a human being, before the kestrel collapsed into her nest in exhaustion.

* * *

Three weeks. Three weeks, Felicity had been stuck in her shifted kestrel form, and whilst before she hadn’t thought it so bad… now, she hated it. At first she had revelled at the opportunity to observe the vigilante at work, learning about his motives and operation, beginning to understand his mission and why he did what he did, why he used the tactics and methods he did, whilst before she didn’t. But then, the confinement got to her. She hated being cramped up inside, unable to fly or move around without Oliver or Diggle’s help, unable to communicate or talk to anybody. She had been practically screaming at the pair of humans when they had mentioned her being missing, but they had ignored her. She tried not to let that get to her personally, and failed. Because Felicity was a bird, she was unimportant. Utterly horrified when Diggle had called her Oliver’s pet, the IT girl tried to distance herself from Oliver as her moult began.

Her feathers always fell out symmetrically, her pin feathers coming in very quickly, making sure she didn’t have any bald patches throughout her wings as her old, worn and damaged feathers fell out. Her primary wing feathers fell out first, all of her inner ones quickly falling and growing in. Then her secondary flight feathers and tail feathers started being lost and replaced, followed by her contour feathers. Throughout the moult, even Felicity couldn’t deny she became a little moody and quiet. She nipped Oliver’s fingers when he tried to stroke her, refusing to let Diggle near her but no longer squawking when he came near, often screeching swear words at them both. She could tell her change in behaviour worried Oliver immensely, concerning Diggle too, but she couldn’t help it. Moulting was incredibly stressful.

With her constant, careful preening and cleaning of the new feathers as they came in, the moult finished like she expected it to, within two weeks. By the month mark of Felicity being trapped in bird form, her wing was healed, and her feathers were replaced. She was ready to fly again. But every time she tried to get into the air, she struggled. It was instinct-guided, Felicity knew, but after a month of being grounded, she needed to get back into it. And she refused to transform back into human form until she was certain she could fly again without any problems.

Oliver found her a day after her moult was finished on the Foundry floor, frustratedly trying to get back into the air after a failed attempt of jumping off the counter had resulted in her half-crashing into the floor. He watched her struggle silently for a moment, which only made Felicity even more angry.

_Don’t just fucking stand there watching me suffer, at least HELP ME, you idiot! I want to fly again, you said you would help me get back into the air and you’re doing absolutely nothing!_

“Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself, little соколица,” Oliver finally stepped in, picking her up off the floor when Felicity slapped her wings into the floor repeatedly, not able to hop up high enough to get enough lift. He carried her over to the salmon ladder, something that for a month Felicity had been awarded a front row seat of watching him do, deliciously shirtless. He placed her on the pole, currently about five rungs high. He went to the other side of the room, holding his arm out as he said encouragingly, “Okay, come on. You can do it.”

_Of course I can do it, I just don’t want to end up as a pancake on the ground!_

“Don’t be scared, I know you can do it.”

_I am NOT scared, I’m just a little apprehensive after all of my failed attempts so far, okay?!_

Felicity ruffled her wings with a huff. With a sharp inhale, spreading her wings to full span, she hopped off the rung and angled her wings out just enough so that she could seamlessly glide through the air at a reasonable speed to land on Oliver’s outstretched arm, flapping to steady herself as she landed.

“See? That was great!”

Yeah, that was great, but gliding was very different from flying. She turned around, wings half span as she cautiously eyed the salmon ladder pole, now appearing quite far away and high. Shaking herself, Felicity dove off Oliver’s arms, equations flying through her head as she calculated the correct angle to gain enough speed to gain the lift she needed to reach the pole. Giving a few flaps, within a few seconds she landed on the pole.

Huh. Guess flying was a little easier when you had somebody to help out. Ten minutes later, with some encouragement from the vigilante, she was flying circles around the Foundry, using the small air currents that flowed throughout the basement to practice hovering before diving shortly and circling again.

Diggle arrived just as she completed her fifty seventh circuit of the Foundry, perching ceremoniously on Oliver’s shoulder. “She’s flying again,” he said, sounding impressed. Felicity bobbed her tail feathers and head as she fluttered into the air briefly to move to Oliver’s other shoulder smugly, just showing off to the bodyguard. “And to think, I didn’t think she could get more vain.”

 _Aw, I love you too,_ Felicity hissed sarcastically, wings shifting in and out again, which made Oliver chuckle.

“Yep. She still has some confidence issues with actually flying upwards, rather than hovering and gliding, so I think we should keep her around and train her outside until she’s flying without any hesitance.” Felicity trilled slightly in annoyance at Oliver’s statement, although she internally knew that he was correct.

Diggle, however, narrowed his eyes and shot the vigilante a pointed look as he began sorting through his personal firearms drawer. “Man, I see what you’re doing.”

“What?” When Diggle didn’t respond, Oliver repeated again, this time more demandingly, “What?” He moved forwards towards his bodyguard, making Felicity squawk as she almost lost balance, but quickly righted herself on his shoulder with several flaps and the adjusting of her tail feathers. “Don’t go silent on me, Dig.”

“You want to keep her around,” Diggle said. “Don’t deny it.”

“We’ve already had this conversation, Diggle.”

“Yes, twice, and you’ve changed the subject both times to avoid my question, which is this: you don’t want to release her back into the wild, do you?”

Felicity’s heart beat surged within her tiny chest, and she made an uneasy noise as she shifted. Was that true? Was Oliver thinking about keeping her - as a pet? As an ally? God, she didn’t think she could live down here in this basement for the rest of her life as a bird.

“I know we have to.”

“That was not an answer to my question, Oliver.”

“You know the answer!” Oliver snapped, rage suddenly seeming to explode out of him as his face contorted angrily. Never had Felicity seem him act like this, and she was reminded why so many people around the city feared the archer. He advanced on Diggle furiously, every moment intimidating and threatening, rising above the other man. The kestrel shrank back on his shoulder. “I don’t feel like I have to hide who I am around her, I can be myself and not be afraid of her reaction! She listens to what I have to say and confess with absolutely no judgement, unlike every other fucking person in this city! No, I don’t want her to leave, is that the answer you want to hear? I don’t want her leave, because I know that when she does, I’ll be alone again! And I’m fucking sick and tired of being alone, Diggle!”

Diggle tried to interject, shock visible on his face as he quietly said, “Oliver -” but the vigilante cut through him, carrying on furiously.

“I know we have to release her back into the wild! I know she’s not a pet, that she needs to fly free and she can’t be cooped up here all day long or kept on a leash! So yes, I’m being selfish and trying to delay her release as long as possible, because I know that once she’s gone, I’ll never see her again, and I don’t know how I’m going be to able to cope without her now I know what my life’s like with her in it, Diggle!”

The vigilante reached up with his arm, urging Felicity to stand on it. Still stunned silent by his words, Felicity hopped onto it quietly, not protesting when he placed her down on the counter and left, hands rubbing his face and tremors shaking his shoulders. Both she and Diggle stared after Oliver as he vanished into one of the darker parts of the Foundry, where he usually worked out. The kestrel didn’t really know how to react to that - she knew that she and Oliver had been building an honest, true friendship, but she had not expected by any count for the vigilante to become so emotionally attached to her bird form. He would miss her, was essentially what he was admitting. He had just admitted to wanting keep Felicity around in her bird form, because once she was gone, he would miss her.

“Everything was fine until you turned up here,” Diggle sighed, looking down at her. “You just had to get trapped in this basement of all the basements in the city, didn’t you?” Felicity ruffled her feathers angrily, preparing herself to begin pecking again, when the bodyguard smiled. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, kinda have to admit I’ve grown attached to you myself, but that boy’s gonna be a complete mess once you’re gone.” He looked back over to where Oliver had disappeared. “I get upset and sad thinking about him sometimes. Oliver barely trusts anybody and he doesn’t properly know how to process positive emotions anymore, not after being forced to dissociate all his negative ones after his five years of hell. You taught him that it was okay to have positive emotions again. You taught him that it was alright to feel happy.” He shook his head. “He doesn’t often feel happy anymore. I think, once you leave, he won’t again for a long time.”

The bodyguard departed soon after that, and Felicity was left with a hole where her heart was meant to be and a severe guilt complex about the thought of how one day, some day soon, she would have to leave Oliver, and how by doing that, she was going to be the cause of his emotional devastation.

* * *

Today was the day they were going to release the kestrel back into the wild, and Oliver was struggling to keep back his tears and maintain his impassive impression. He and Diggle had driven out to the forest only a mile or so north of the limits of the city, the kestrel safely tucked away in a towel-lined cardboard box, that rested on Oliver’s lap. The softly-playing radio had hardly distracted Oliver from the small confused and distressed chirps of the bird, his heart clenching in his chest every few seconds.

Diggle pulled the sedan up next to a small clearing surrounded by trees, saying, “This looks to be a good spot.” _No, you’re just choosing this spot because you want to get rid of the kestrel as soon as possible._ Oliver must have made a face, because the bodyguard’s voice softened as he continued, “It has to be done, Oliver.”

He stepped wordlessly out of the car, carefully holding the cardboard box to his chest. But before slamming the door shut, his fixed his eyes on his bodyguard, for the first time ever letting his emotions become visible, which made Diggle visibly blanch. “I know,” he said softly. _Doesn’t mean I have to like it._

As soon as the archer reached the middle of the clearing, he set down the box and opened it up. The kestrel immediately burst out, her wings a flurry of feathers and almost taking Oliver’s head off in the process. Screeching, she landed on the archer’s shoulder, obviously unhappy at the confinement, but she nipped his ear apologetically.

“Time for you to go home,” Oliver said, attempting to sound bright. “Off you go. Look, we’re in the forest. You can fly home now.” _Now please just fly away so this doesn’t get any harder than it already is._

The kestrel chirped, feathers ruffling and she took off Oliver’s shoulder with a few powerful wing beats, swooping over the tops of the trees out of sight. Tears pricking his eyes at how swiftly the kestrel seemed to have flown off, forgetting about any connection they ever had, the vigilante picked up the empty box and began trudging miserably back towards the car.

A loud falcon call caused him to whip around again, nearly falling back in shock as the kestrel dived down back towards him, taking up perch on his shoulder again. The impact of her landing after such a gain in momentum from the dive could have pushed any weaker man over, but Oliver stayed on his feet.

“No, you have to go,” Oliver ordered, holding his wrist up for her to hop onto. “You’re all healed up now, little _соколица_ , it’s time for you go to back home, into the wild.” She blinked at him, confused. Oliver bit his lip. She didn’t understand. She understood practically everything he said, but she couldn’t understand this simple thing. “You need to leave,” he said forcefully. “Fly off back into the forest. Live out your wild kestrel life there, hunting mice in fields.”

The kestrel didn’t move, her wings just spreading to half span before tucking again. An irrational anger boiled inside of Oliver, although he knew it was wrong, that it was just his frustration at the prospect of her having to leave but not wanting to and trying to stay with him, despite the fact that was really what he wanted. He began shaking his arm, trying to make her fly off in a panic so he could leg it back to the sedan, but she just squawked furiously, wings flapping to steady herself and slapping him in the face several times over.

“Don’t you understand?” Oliver practically shouted. “You can’t stay with me anymore! You have to leave, okay? Fly away and go and live your life in the wild like you were meant to! Forget all about me and Dig and the Foundry and fly away!” _JUST GO AWAY, PLEASE, THIS IS ALREADY HARD ENOUGH!_

Tilting her head, the bird just tittered softly, making it sound like a sad noise, which only made Oliver want to sob. He shook his arm more violently, finally forcing her to dive off and fly upwards before the kestrel caught a warm upwards air current only a few metres away from him and hovered. It took a tremendous effort for Oliver to wheel around and stride back to the car, leaving her hovering there, her falcon eyes staring into his back. This was the right thing to do. It wasn’t healthy for a wild bird of prey to live in a basement, and it wasn’t right for Oliver to keep her there. She had to go back into the wild, where she belonged.

“Oliver, duck!” Diggle shouted, startling him.

He did so instinctively, and that was when he realised that the kestrel had just tried to swoop down onto his shoulder again. Having ducked, Oliver had taken away her landing platform and she had been forced to swoop upwards again, but it seemed she was gliding along an air current to try and attempt another landing on his shoulder.

The archer burst into a sprint, throwing himself in the sedan and yelling frustratedly, “Drive!”, only glancing up from where he placed his head in his hands until they were a safe distance away from the forest, heading back towards the city.

Oliver gazed out of the window, up into the sky. The kestrel was gone. She hadn’t followed them. He allowed the first sob to escape his chest, coming out silently as he covered his face with barely trembling hands once again.

“Oliver,” Diggle said quietly.

“Shut up,” his voice came out, muffled and angry and upset. _Yes, I’m getting tearful over a kestrel, you gonna judge me for that now as well as the hundreds of other things you judge me for?_ “Let’s just get back to the Foundry, okay? We need to prepare for taking on Stephen Talbot tonight and figure out how we’re going to break into his company’s building if we want to erase the plans for those new nuclear explosive devices.” Mission. Focus on the mission. If he focused on the mission, he would think less about the kestrel.

“... Look, I understand if you’re upset -”

 _NO, YOU DON’T._ “I will jump out of this car right now whilst it’s moving if you don’t shut up, Dig.”

“... Noted.” The hesitance in Diggle’s voice was evident, but he still shot Oliver worried and understanding glances, which only angered the vigilante more.

Oliver twisted his body away from his bodyguard so he was curled up slightly on the seat, staring forcefully out of the window. The view of the countryside and forest passing by rapidly, thinning down as they got further and further towards the city, made him dizzy, so he closed his eyes and just swallowed. He felt like his entire chest was caving in, his heart being crushed by his ribs. The pain he felt there, however, was not physical, and he knew that. It was emotional. It took a lot for the archer to admit that the devastation and pain he was feeling was emotional, and due to the fact that the kestrel was now gone. Due to the fact that he thought that he would never see the beautiful bird again, and never be able to connect to anybody that deeply again.

Oliver was sitting in a car with his bodyguard, but he had never felt so alone.

When they got back to the Foundry, Oliver didn’t speak. He suited up, desperately trying to ignore the concerned gaze Diggle had set on him, before checking the computers for Stephen Talbot’s location and building security. Alone, he established a plan of action, writing down rough notes on a pad of paper for Diggle before he grabbed his bow and headed out.

That night, when Talbot stood directly between the Hood and the nuclear explosive devices that the corrupt businessman had developed to sell to a terrorist group, Oliver shot him with two arrows to the chest before kicking him down and delivering a harsh punch to the throat.

Tablot died in a pool of his own blood whilst the Hood dismantled the devices and locked the nuclear capsules in a lead lined containment device, waiting for the police to arrive and cart them away.

Oliver couldn’t read the emotions flitting over Diggle’s face when he returned to the Foundry that night, crimson splattered over green leather and his face shadowed by the hood.

“You have something you want to say to me, Dig?” the archer asked gruffly. _Go ahead, say it. It can’t be anything worse than what I’ve been thinking about myself lately._

Diggle shook his head, saying quietly, “Nothing that you’d want to hear.”

Oliver would have cried himself to sleep that night if he hadn’t felt so numb, the shock of the thought of being alone again, suffering in the darkness with no light to guide him or drag him out, drowning out all other emotions. The kestrel was gone, and she wasn’t coming back.

* * *


	2. ~ Part 2 ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnndd we're back with another chapter. Can I just say - wow. Thank you so much guys for your amazing, wonderful support. It means so much, I really appreciate it :) I'm thrilled to hear you're enjoying the fic so far.
> 
> Thanks to @geniewithwifi for reading this over and essentially being just awesome in general :).
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Felicity’s life returned to normal. Well, as normal as her life was before a certain green vigilante archer had entered it anyway. After managing to somehow fly herself back to the outskirts of Starling City, Felicity transformed back into her thankfully fully clothed human form, feeling more free from her kestrel form than she had in her entire life, before checking her cell phone and heading to the police station. Thank god when she shifted, her clothes stayed with her. Otherwise she would have been trying to explain to the police what had happened… naked. Which would have been awkward. And complicated.

It was complicated, because whilst she had been stuck in bird form, one of her friends from the IT department, Tanya, had issued a missing person report. After Felicity reassured the police that _no_ , she had not been kidnapped, and _no_ , she didn’t need to go to a hospital, explaining that it had just been a family emergency, the report was taken down.

Explaining to the QC Human Resources department why she had made no contact to say she was going to be taking a leave was harder. She tried to tell them that one of her aunts living in Saudi Arabia had become very ill, and she had been forced to fly out immediately without giving notice, and then when she had arrived there had been no internet access, and by some miracle, they accepted it. Felicity Smoak got her job back in the IT department at Queen Consolidated, and she started gaining an income once again.

The following fortnight, she followed the exploits of the vigilante closely. From what she read from police reports and in the newspapers, the green archer had gone off the rails. He had killed half a dozen people in three days. That said, they were very bad people, most of them being human traffickers working for the Triad, but he was still murdering people. Whilst Felicity had stayed with Oliver in the Foundry, he hadn’t killed anybody. She couldn’t help but think that her leaving, and the emotional devastation that caused Oliver, had pushed him over the edge.

_Really hope he doesn’t do anything stupid. Won’t be able to forgive myself if he ends up killing himself accidentally or anything. Or on purpose. Wow, that’s a dark thought. Sure, Oliver’s a little self-destructive, but he wouldn’t go as far to try and commit suicide, would he? ... Shit._

She needed to see him. She needed to check whether or not he was alright. From what she was able to tell from the grainy CCTV footage of the vigilante, Oliver was acting incredibly reckless. He was going to end up getting himself killed. Felicity knew that wasn’t his fault. There was no doubt in her mind, after having spent time with him, watching the archer whilst learning about him and understanding him, that Oliver was depressed. But Felicity, for some reason unknown to her, felt responsible for his well-being, and felt an urgent need to make sure he was safe and okay.

That night, as soon as her newly set up search algorithm sent an alert to her phone about the vigilante’s activity, with an approximate location, Felicity shivered into her kestrel form, wings flaring and spreading and tucking to balance her. She hopped out of the half open window and onto the windowsill before diving off. Catching a warm upwards wind current, the kestrel took off, soaring through the darkness above Starling City.

It didn’t take long to find Oliver. He was scaling the side of a three story building using a new type of grappling arrow, the thin strapped harness around his waist almost making her have a heart attack right there and then. She circled above, waiting for him to reach the top and begin running across the roof, and as soon as he was moving once again, Felicity dived down and grazed her talons across the top of his green hood.

_HEY, OLIVER! IT’S ME, WAKEY WAKEY!_

He startled so much as the hood was torn back slightly that he stumbled. Felicity flared her wings to full span to hover on a warm current just above him, giving a quiet falcon screech of greeting. Oliver’s shocked blue eyes clashed with her own, and she was finally able to get a glance underneath his hood at his face. His dull eyes were sunken in his pale face, his physical and emotional exhaustion evident.

“ _Coколица_?” he questioned gruffly. “What are you - how did you get here? How did you find me? You’re meant to be back in the forest -” He cut himself off, before saying exasperatedly, “I don’t know, she just turned up! Scared the hell out of me, but it’s definitely her.”

_Who the hell are you - Ah, you’re talking to Diggle through a comm link. You’re not telepathic or anything. That would be interesting if you were. Both of us having powers - we’d be quite the power couple. Not that - not that we would be a couple._

Folding her wings briefly to drop away from the air currently, Felicity swooped down to land on Oliver’s shoulder, ruffling her feathers proudly and adjusting her tail feathers. Giving another chirp, the kestrel shuffled around until she was nuzzling under Oliver’s chin, leaning into the hood. It felt so good to be able to make contact with him again, to be able to touch him. Not in a sexual or intimate way, but just the sheer ability to be able to make contact.

Very gently, the archer brushed his leather gloved fingers over her feathers. “What are you doing here, little _coколица_?” Felicity made another little chirping noise, making sure she pushed her emotions through the sound as well, of worry and annoyance. “You were concerned about me? I’m fine. I’m on a patrol, you shouldn’t be here.”

She rolled her eyes. _You’re not fine. You’re having an emotional breakdown. I just want to help you, you big dumb pine tree._

Oliver started moving again, his movements smooth yet swift so that she didn’t fall off his shoulder. He began talking to her softly, asking quiet questions and telling her about the patrol, and a sad sense of nostalgia hit Felicity, remembering the times at which he could come back and openly talk to her about his worries. When he came to the edge of the building, intending to make a jump, Felicity fluttered off and began circling in the sky above the archer again, watching carefully.

_Better not miss this jump, mister. I’m the one with wings here, not you. You haven’t got a built-in safety feature to save your ass if you fall._

He made the jump - _Thank god_ \- and the archer resumed his patrol, every so often glancing upwards to smile at her. He took down some street thugs and muggers, sending them scuttling off scared, but the real action came when the vigilante tracked down a gang that had been kidnapping and beating teenagers. Oliver began striking them down and handcuffing them to pipes, but one of the kids managed to call the police, screaming their location at them and that they were being attacked by the vigilante. The archer finished off just as Felicity caught sight of police lights in the distance. Sirens sounded.

Seeing that Oliver was in a maze of alleyways within the Glades, in the middle of the night in the dark, Felicity knew that he was in trouble. The police working the beat in the Glades knew the place better than the vigilante did, and he was going to become trapped and cornered if he didn’t move soon. Felicity couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t let Oliver get caught. He didn’t deserve to be locked up in a prison cell and treated like a criminal, not when he had such a good heart. With an urgent call, the kestrel tucked her wings in and corkscrewed down to glance one of her talons over Oliver’s hood again.

_Hey, Green-pants! We have a situation here!_

He ducked a second too late, scowling at her darkly as he fixed glittering eyes on the bird. “What?”

_Are you seriously that dense?! Can you not hear the sirens or something!? How have you survived without me for so long?_

She flew down to the bottom of the alley, having quickly mapped an escape route for the vigilante so he didn’t get caught by the SCPD. When the archer didn’t follow, Felicity rolled her eyes irritatedly and circled back around, chirping back at him.

_OLIVER! YOU’RE IN A SHIT TON OF TROUBLE, FOLLOW ME!_

Oliver finally seemed to realise what she wanted when she hovered at the end of the alley. “You want me to follow?” _YES! I DO!_ After a moment of Felicity chirping frantically back in response, Oliver nodded and burst into a sprint, gripping his bow tightly. _THANK YOU!_

Felicity swooped around the corner, only a metre above Oliver’s head as the archer ran underneath her, following her throughout the maze of alleyways. The sound of sirens got louder and louder as the police cars approached, and for a fleeting moment Felicity thought she saw a flash of red and blue lights out of the corner of her vision. The kestrel felt relieved as they finally reached a safe place in which the archer could stop, having escaped the police. Oliver had followed her blindly, having complete faith in the kestrel, and Felicity’s heart warmed at the idea of the usually closed-off, cold vigilante trusting her. Oliver braced his hands on his knees and, quickly checking that no CCTV cameras were nearby, pushed down his hood and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. With a soft chirrup, the kestrel touched down on Oliver’s shoulder, fluttering her wings.

_Crisis averted. You should really get me a gift basket or something to thank me for helping you avoid getting arrested or pumped full of bullets._

“You got me out of there,” Oliver said, sounding confused and yet amazed. Felicity preened, fluffing her feathers. “You’re not from the forest, are you? How else could you know the Glades so well - you’re from the city. You flew back here because this is your home.” He reached up and began stroking her wings as he walked, heading back towards where he had stowed his bike. “Let’s head back to the Foundry.”

As much as Felicity wanted to go back with Oliver, it was nearing three am and she needed to get home and get some sleep. Now she knew that the archer was alright, and he was safe that evening and in a better state of mind, she needed to focus on her own life. It wasn’t selfish for her to worry about her job when she was lucky to have not been fired after the last few weeks. She needed to sleep so that she could get up early and be on time for work.

_Sorry, buddy, gotta head off. Glad you’re alive and safe though. See you soon. Tell your mean bodyguard hi from me._

With an apologetic chirp, the kestrel nuzzled Oliver’s cheek and nipped him gently before taking off. Oliver made a broken, disappointed sound, reaching out with one hand to try and get her to come back, which broke Felicity’s heart, but she couldn’t stay, and clipping his hood with her talons one last time, she soared off back into the night.

* * *

Oliver placed his bow down gently on his weapons counter, a smile playing at his lips for the first time since the kestrel had left. She had come back. He had no idea how she had known the way back to Starling City, or known how to find him when he was on patrol, but his little _coколица_ had returned to him. She had helped him escape the police, expertly navigating him through the alleyways of the Glades, making him realise that the intelligence he had thought existed within her before, was real. She was extremely clever.

“That was some weird shit right there.”

Oliver closed his eyes and grinned, turning to face Diggle. _Weird? More like amazing._ His bodyguard and partner was leaning back against the computer set up counter, arms crossed with one eyebrow raised at him.

“She came back,” Oliver told him. “She flew back here and somehow she found me.”

“Okay, so level with me here,” Diggle said, lifting his hand up flat. “The kestrel, that you personally nursed back to health and became friends with, which we set free in the forest once she was healthy again, flew back to the city, managed to track you down when you were on patrol, and then, with an intelligence far greater than any bird should have, she guided you to safety, away from the police.”

_I know, right? She’s incredible._ “Yes.”

Diggle ran a hand over his head and rubbed his eyes. “Dammit, man, since you came into my life, it just keeps getting weirder and weirder.” He pinched the nasal bone of his nose. “No normal bird should be able to do that stuff, Oliver. I’m starting to think that something else is at work here.”

Oliver exhaled slowly, unclipping his quiver. “I’ve seen a lot of strange, unusual things in my time, Diggle, a lot of abnormal, mysterious, mystical shit. I’m used to weird stuff. But that bird, our kestrel, she… she’s special.”

“There’s no arguing against that,” Diggle sighed.

“She can understand human speech. She can understand human emotions and respond to them.” Oliver shook his head. “I’ve never known an animal to do that before.” Lowering his gaze to the floor, the archer licked his lips and started reluctantly, “On the island, there was a pack of wolves. They were a threat the first three years there but after that - we developed an understanding. They left me alone. But this connection, with the kestrel, it’s -”

“It’s different,” Diggle finished, nodding in understanding.

_It’s like she’s human._ Oliver bit his lip, frowning, before moving off, beginning to change back into his civvies. The kestrel was definitely not a normal bird. The archer had formed a deep emotional bond with her, that she somehow understood and was able to respond to. He wanted to understand that more; he wanted to spend more time with her, develop an honest relationship to see if they could directly communicate more. But nothing at the moment really made any sense to him. And he hardly had the time.

“Oliver.” He glanced up. Diggle was looking down at his phone. “One of my friends in QC security just texted me - Felicity Smoak’s returned.”

_Felicity’s finally back?_ Oliver’s heart leapt inside his chest. Pulling on his jacket, he questioned curiously, “She finally came back? Where’d she go?” She had been gone a long time - Oliver wondered what had happened. Like he and Diggle had discussed before, Felicity up and vanishing for weeks without notice or telling anybody. “Is she okay?”

“Not sure, he didn’t tell me anything else,” Diggle shook his head.

“We should go and talk to her.”

“Oliver.” Diggle caught his arm when he made to walk off hurriedly, and despite Oliver’s glare, he didn’t let go. “It’s three thirty am. I’m pretty sure she’s not gonna be at QC at the moment.” _So what, I’m sure we can just search up where she lives and make a home visit - wait, is that weird? Would that be creepy?_ “And we can’t visit her in her apartment,” he added, seeing Oliver’s thinking face. The archer glared at him. “Don’t look at me like that, she’s probably sleeping, we can’t go and wake her up.”

“Fine,” Oliver replied. _What is it with you and being such a buzz kill._

Diggle rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as he gathered his jacket, “Annnnddd grumpy Oliver’s back.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“You’re literally sulking right now.” Diggle smirked. He raised a hand in a wave as he clunked up the metal stairs towards the door. “Right, I’m heading out. You going home?”

“No, I think I’m going to stay here for the night,” Oliver replied. “Take a nap on the cot, get some training in a little later.” _Well, just skip straight to training, but he doesn’t have to know that._

“Make sure you get a few hours rest,” Diggle advised. “You’ve been putting in a lot of Hood hours recently.”

“Still need to clean up the streets, Dig.”

“Sure, but you’ve been wearing yourself out. Get some real sleep, man.”

_Yeah, not likely with the nightmares I’ve been having lately._ He nodded silently, watching Diggle’s back until the man disappeared from the Foundry, the door slamming shut behind him. Starting a quick work-out on the salmon ladder, Oliver let his mind wander, only occasionally focusing on curiosities about the kestrel and new targets from the List for the next few weeks. It was nearing four thirty am when he finished off, stretching out before lowering himself onto the cot and sleeping restlessly until six, at which point he got up to take a shower and do another hour work out.

Diggle arrived promptly at eight, entering the Lair with a couple of protein bars and a bag of apples in hand. Oliver munched on one of the fruits absentmindedly as together they flicked through some information about a new target, a woman called Sophia Warren who had set up a bunch of charities in the Glades and was using the money to fund a line of illegal underground brothels. They were able to half way hack into her online operation, deep into the Dark Web, but weren’t able to get into her system any further. They wanted to get a list of clients so that Oliver could scare the shit out of them, as well as shut down their online operation and get the location of the brothels within the limits of Starling.

“Well,” Oliver said innocently, as they were shut out of the system once again. “Looks like we need some technical assistance on this one.”

“Man, I see what you’re doing,” Diggle scoffed.

“Doing what?” Oliver replied, blinking at him. _I have no idea what you’re talking about, I am COMPLETELY innocent here. No ulterior motives at all, nope._

Diggle shook his head, picking up his jacket as he muttered, “White boys,” underneath his breath, with a roll of his eyes.

The drive to the Queen Consolidated was short, and the two men sat in companionable silence for the journey. Oliver hated the fact that as soon as he entered the building, he was forced to plaster on his Ollie Queen personality, faking charming, disarming smiles and winking at women who passed by, blushing. The archer knew that Diggle was watching him from behind, and he didn’t hide his shudder as they finally got in the clear. The IT department was just in front of them, and Oliver shot the bodyguard a look to order him to remain on watch outside.

Quickly navigating his way to Felicity’s cubicle, Oliver caught sight of her signature blonde ponytail, overhearing the IT girl humming softly under her breath, and with a grin on his face, he knocked three times. Felicity practically fell out of her chair, making a surprised noise, which caused Oliver to chuckle. As soon as she caught sight of the archer, straightening up, Felicity’s jaw dropped open and she gaped for a few seconds, before swallowing and shakily re-taking her seat.

_HI, HI, HI!_ “Hi, Felicity,” Oliver greeted her calmly, stepping into her cubicle and leaning against the side of it.

“Oliver,” Felicity squeaked. “You’re - you’re here.”

_Ohmygod she’s so adorable._ “Yep,” he responded, flashing a smile. “Thought I’d come and see how my favourite IT girl was doing. You, um, you’ve been gone a while. I mean, you - you kinda up and vanished.” He chuckled weakly. “I just… I guess I kinda wanted to check up on you?”

Felicity narrowed her eyes at him, sweeping some of her paperwork into a small pile. Tilting her head sideways, her lips turned up as she questioned teasingly, “Worried about me?”

Oliver shrugged, not wanting to admit that _yes, I have definitely been worried about you! People don’t just disappear for a few weeks - well, unless they’re stuck on a deserted island…_ “And if I was?”

Felicity ducked her head to hide her smile as she saved and closed a few of the programs she was working on. “That would be… nice. I don’t really have any friends that worry about me.” Her face morphed into one of horror and embarrassment. “Oh god. Not - not to say that I don’t have any friends. I didn’t mean that. I _do_ have friends. Of course I have friends who worry about me.” She finished off with nervous laughter.

Oliver watched her blush and mutter at herself furiously, tapping absentmindedly on her computer and refusing to make eye contact with her. Realising he would have to make the next move, he said, “I was worried about you.” He paused, before asking, “If you don’t mind me asking, where did you go?” _Because I was practically out of my MIND trying to figure it out._

Felicity kept her eyes fixed to the screen as she said, “One of my aunts living in Saudi Arabia was really sick, and I had to fly out there without telling QC.”

“And you couldn’t… call, or email -?”

“Once I was out there, there was no wifi or internet access. I didn’t have any way to contact anybody until I flew back.”

It was a lie. It was all a lie, and Oliver knew it. The Bratva had transformed him into a human lie detector, and Felicity was definitely lying. He just didn’t know why. Squinting at her, Oliver watched her face for a few seconds, but she kept herself carefully schooled. He didn’t want to press her for answers, but he did want to know the truth. Why would she lie, was the most urgent question.

“So!” Felicity began more cheerfully. “You need some more technical help, I assume?”

“If you don’t mind,” Oliver said. _I’m kinda useless with tech. I have to remember to ask you how Twitter works at some point..._

“I don’t mind at all, anything for a friend,” she smiled.

Trying to come up with an excuse for the job he had for her was extremely difficult, and the one he did make up was so lame it made him cringe. He said that Sophia Warren was an old friend of his father and she had some files of his in her system which he needed to get for his mother, but couldn’t because Sophia Warren was on vacation and didn’t answer any of his calls.

“So essentially,” Felicity translated. “You want me to hack her online system, which just so happens to be deep within the Dark Web, which is extremely dangerous, by the way, and give you open access.”

“... yes?” he responded hesitantly. _Please don’t see right through it, please don’t see right through it._

She rolled her eyes, murmuring, “Your excuses are honestly getting so much worse, Oliver.”

His heart seized. “What?” he said, his mouth dry. _OH GOD, SHE SEES RIGHT THROUGH IT._

“Nothing,” she replied. “Take a seat, I’ll have you inside in a few minutes.”

He settled in front of her desk, placing his laced hands on his lap as he patiently waited. Glancing his gaze over her face, taking in her biting her lip and narrowing and widening her eyes at what she was seeing on the screen, he smiled again. The archer couldn’t help but find the blonde’s actions and reactions adorable. Felicity’s sudden fist pump into the air startled Oliver, making him jump to his feet. She shot him an apologetic look, which confused the archer; why would she feel guilty for making him jump? He was pretty sure nobody knew about his hyper vigilance except Diggle and maybe his family. She was acting as if she knew that he got jumpy when it came to loud unexpected noises and was apologetic for startling him.

Stepping out of her seat, she motioned to the computer, “There you go. Open system. I hope you realise the risk I just took entering the Dark Web. Try and get your stuff done quickly, okay, I don’t want the QC servers to get cyber blizted or anything.” She shrugged on her cardigan with a smile. “Gonna go grab coffee.”

Oliver frowned, finally looking up from the screen to blink at her bemusedly. “You’re leaving me here with your computer? And open access to this system?” _That’s very trusting. Is she this trusting with everybody? That’s worrying. Trusting too easily could get her hurt._

“Yeah,” Felicity replied. “Don’t use my computer for porn, please. We get enough of the creepier staff in this building doing that already.”

“But, I mean…” Felicity raised her eyebrows at him, when he asked confusedly, “Why?”

“Oliver,” Felicity sighed. “I might be blonde, but I’m not _that_ blonde. I’m not sure I want to know what you’re doing with that open system when getting into it required the Dark Web and a lot of illegal coding. So I’m going to go and grab a coffee to give you some wiggle room, and when I come back, I am going to cleanse the system and forget about this request, alright?” She shook her head. “I trust you, Oliver. Don’t make me regret that trust.”

“Okay,” he whispered. _Nobody’s ever trusted me like you do. It’s a change. A nice change._

She left the room, with a quick reassuring glance back to him. As soon as she was gone, Oliver began gathering the information that he and Diggle needed for the operation, scribbling down the locations of the underground brothels and a list of clients, as well as some of the security details. He was focused on the screen, however, wasn’t so totally engrossed that he didn’t see or hear the quiet creak of the door as Diggle stuck his head inside.

“She seriously believed your excuse and hacked the system?” Diggle asked disbelievingly.

“Well, she didn’t believe my excuse,” Oliver said. Biting his lip, he glanced up at his bodyguard and said uneasily, “She suspects me, Dig.” _Rightly so, as well._

“I’m not surprised, your excuses are crap.”

_Wow, thanks, Dig._ “She’s lying about where she went when she went missing as well.”

“Lying?”

_Through her teeth._ “I can tell.”

“What reason would she have to lie?” Diggle questioned.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense to me. I would’ve thought she’d be truthful, unless what she was doing wasn’t exactly legal.”

“Maybe it was personal,” the bodyguard suggested.

Oliver shot him a look. “More personal than the excuse that her aunt in Saudi Arabia got extremely ill and she had to go and see her?”

Diggle frowned. “Huh.”

“Yeah, something’s going on,” Oliver noted. _And I’m going to find out what._

The door opened again, and this time it was Felicity who swept in, coffee mug in hand as she sipped it. Diggle moved to the side to let her pass, ducking his head slightly with a wry grin as Oliver immediately straightened in his seat and smiled at her. “I hope you boys aren’t messing with my set-up,” Felicity said warningly. She tilted her head and greeted, “Mr Diggle. Lovely to see you again.”

Something about the way she said it was off and stilted. As if she personally didn't particularly like Dig, which was surprising, because most people liked him.

“And you, Miss Smoak,” Diggle replied guardedly.

“Felicity, please. Oliver, are you done?”

“Yeah,” he responded quickly, standing and backing away from her computer. He had made sure that nothing about the operation was on the screen, but when Felicity slipped in front of her computer, he felt like his intentions were bared. _I hope she doesn’t go through my search history later._ “Thank you, Felicity.”

“Anytime. Well, not anytime. You shouldn’t frequent the Dark Web, Oliver, it’s not a nice place.” Coding appeared on the screen again as Felicity’s hands flew across the keyboard. “I hope you found what you were looking for,” she said knowingly.

Oliver swallowed. _Shiiiiittt._

“Right, we better head off,” Diggle said loudly, interrupting whatever moment the archer and IT girl were having between them. “Thank you for helping Oliver, Felicity.”

“Like I said, anytime.” She grinned. “Bye, guys.”

Diggle nodded back and made his way out of the cubicle, and Oliver followed close behind, still pondering on the blonde’s strange behaviour. However, Felicity calling his name softly made the archer halt briefly, glancing back at her with a friendly, questioning gaze.

“Be careful,” she told him, her voice serious and cobalt eyes piercing.

His chest tightening, the vigilante gave a small nod before swiftly vacating the room, following Diggle quickly until they got outside the building. Once outside in fresh air, he took a few minutes to inhale and exhale deeply to calm himself down. Every single way Felicity had acted, reacted and everything she had said, made him think that _she knew_. Which didn’t make any sense at all, because sure, he had presented her with some shitty excuses and given her reason to suspect, but she had acted like she was absolutely sure.

“You okay, man?”

“Yeah,” he said. _Just very much shaken by the fact that with Felicity, I’m like an open book, which really shouldn’t be possible._ “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s head back to the Foundry, begin planning the op. Felicity got us everything we need.”

Without waiting for Diggle’s reply, Oliver clambers into the passenger seat of the sedan. The bodyguard slips into the driver’s seat and pulls them out into the street. Arriving at the club and heading down into the lair, they start prepping for taking down the security of the underground brothels to confront Sophia Warren. Due to the number of guards there would be, Diggle would be forced to come out into the field with Oliver, but Diggle didn’t seem to mind. They were just marking out their exit route when Oliver’s phone began ringing.

It was Moira. Apparently she and Walter were holding a charity event in the Queen mansion gardens that night, and they needed Oliver to come and make the rounds. His ‘charming personality’ increased the number of donations, according to his mother. Oliver didn’t believe that one bit - nearly everybody in the Starling elite hated him for his past behaviour. Moira just wanted the archer to come so that the Queen family could be publically presented as a united front. Reluctantly, realising his mother wasn’t going to give in, Oliver agreed to come for an hour or two.

“That’s messed up our plan,” he said frustratedly as he hung up. _Great timing as ever, Mom._ “I won’t be able to get there until eleven at the earliest.”

“Hey, I should be able to cope for an hour or two,” Diggle reassured. “I’m not _completely_ useless, you know,” he joked.

“I don’t like the idea of you going out there alone to face over a dozen guards.” _You could get hurt, and you’re my partner, I can’t have you getting hurt._

“Oliver, you go out there alone nearly every night,” Diggle rolled his eyes. “And normally you’re faced with nearly two dozen guards. You’re fine by yourself.”

“That’s different,” Oliver informed him. _I’m a weapon in myself, I can cope without my bow. Sure, Dig’s trained, but he wouldn’t last two minutes against me unarmed._

“How is it any different, Oliver?”

Oliver fixed him with a fierce gaze. _You really wanna go there? Then fine._ “Because when I go out there, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get the mission done. Even if that involves killing. Can you honestly tell me, Dig, that you would be willing to kill somebody in your way, without any hesitance?”

Diggle didn’t break his gaze. “Killing isn’t the only way.”

“Against those kind of people, it is.” _It’s the only way._

“Sometimes I wonder why I even work with you,” the bodyguard muttered, turning away. “But then I remember.”

Oliver shook his head sharply. “I told you, I don’t need saving, Diggle.” _And even if I did, this city comes first. What happens to me in the long run doesn’t matter._

“Yeah,” Diggle said. “Sure, Oliver. The fact that ever since you arrived back from that island, you’ve been in kill-to-survive mode, says otherwise.”

Fury suddenly overtaking Oliver at Diggle’s words, a bout of anger caused the archer to back up and sweep his hands across his personal arrow-making counter, sending arrowheads, shafts and pliers scattering across the floor. Diggle visibly jumped at the sound of the metal arrowheads colliding with the ground, gazing at Oliver warily as the archer ferociously kicked the counter. The vigilante didn’t know why he was reacting so violently to his bodyguard’s statement, but he couldn’t help it. The rage he felt was overwhelming him. _Shut up shut up shut up shut up you can’t say that you have no right to say that._

“Oliver,” Diggle said cautiously.

The archer raised a finger at him. “Shut up.”

“Oli -”

_Don’t push me._ “I said, shut up.” He braced his hands against his knees and tried to regulate his erratic heartbeat and breathing. “I’m not - I’m sorry. I don’t know why I reacted like that.”

“It was a response to what I said,” Diggle said quietly.

Oliver exhaled forcefully. “Yes.”

“You didn’t like me saying that you’ve been in kill-to-survive mode,” Diggle observed.

Oliver didn’t respond.

“Talk to me, man,” Diggle pleaded. “I can’t help you, if you don’t talk to me.” A small pause, and then he said, “You said weeks ago that the kestrel made you feel like you weren’t judged. I realise now that you saying that suggests that you felt like you were being judged by me. Don’t feel like that, Oliver. I’m not going to judge you.”

After a moment, in which the archer was able to rein in his anger, Oliver straightened. “I didn’t like your implication that my ‘kill-to-survive mode’, as you so eloquently put it, is wrong. It made me feel - angry. And unaccepted.”

Grimacing, Diggle murmured, “It wasn’t my place to say that.”

“Doesn’t mean that you were wrong,” Oliver whispered. _I’ve killed a lot of people._ He rested his hands in his hand. “On the island, killing was the only way to survive. I can’t veer from that path, Diggle, when it’s the only one I’ve ever known. I know that killing is wrong. I know it’s immoral and dishonourable. But when I’m out there, with my bow in my hand and I’m surrounded by people who have no qualms about violence or murder, it’s those learned instincts, that killing dispatches the threats, that keeps me alive.”

“But when the kestrel was here, you didn’t kill.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

Oliver picked up one of the arrowheads from the floor, fumbling it between his fingers. “We both bring our individual attributes to this operation. Loyalty, courage, determination, resilience.”

“Like stubbornness and uncooperativeness?” Diggle grinned.

Oliver ignored him, although usually he would have made some sort of snarky comment back. “The kestrel brought… kindness, compassion, honesty and sympathy. I felt like empathy and mercy were something I could manage when she was supporting me.”

Diggle lowered his head in realisation. “And once she left, you felt like positive emotions weren’t possible anymore.”

“I haven’t properly experienced happiness in nearly six years,” the archer mumbled. _And those few times that I did, were instantly followed by pain and death._ “But for a few fleeting moments, when the kestrel was here and I was holding her or she was just next to me, I thought that it was possible for me to feel happy again.”

“It is possible, Oliver.”

Nodding, gazing down at his bow and quiver lying on the weapons counter as he ran his fingers over the green fletching, the archer murmured, “We’ll see.”

* * *

Did Oliver really think that Felicity was going to venture into the Dark Web and hack an entire server for him to snoop around, and she wasn’t going to do some snooping herself? Puh-lease. As soon as Oliver left her cubicle with a slightly disturbed look on his face after her quiet request that he be careful, the blonde began flicking back through what Oliver had been looking at. It became pretty obvious to her that the archer had been doing research for a mission, and everything became clear when she discovered that Sophia Warren was not, in fact, an old friend of the Queen family, but was actually a corrupt businesswoman running illegal underground brothels that kidnapped people. Exactly the type of person that the Hood would go after.

Except what Oliver didn’t know, because he hadn’t dug deep enough within the system, was that Warren knew that she was likely to become a target for the vigilante, so had hired half a dozen German mercenaries to guard her main club; ex-special ops men, highly skilled and trained, being specifically paid to deal with threats like a green-clad archer nosing around in their boss’ business.

“Shit, Oliver… you’re going to get yourself killed.” _And I have no idea how to help you._

There was a knock on her cubicle door, so Felicity quickly cleansed her system and put up some extra firewalls around the server just in case some dirtier people from the Dark Web decided to dip their sticky fingers into the QC system. The door opened just as she finished, and her friend Tanya, who worked in the cubicle next to her, stepped inside.

“You busy, F’liss?” she questioned.

_Trying to work out how to stop my friend getting slaughtered by mercs, but sure, come right in. Nothing pressing at all._ “Nope, just finished up,” she replied lightly. “You need help with something?”

“Ah, no. Not me. Mr Steele asked to see you.” Tanya looked a little unnerved at the thought of the QC CEO personally requesting Felicity to come up to his office, but the blonde herself wasn’t surprised. Walter and she had developed a weird kind of boss-employee relationship which was uncannily close to a friendship. “He called down and asked for us to send you up.”

_Oh god, I hope he hasn’t somehow managed to delete his email software again._ “Sure,” she nodded, smiling. “I’ll head straight on up.”

Saving her coding progress and shutting down her computer, Felicity drained the last dregs of her coffee before exiting her cubicle and beginning the journey up to the CEO’s office on one of the highest floors. Walter’s assistant made her wait outside the office for a few minutes, as apparently the CEO was in the middle of a call, but after that, she was immediately let in. Walter stood and greeted her with a friendly smile, which Felicity returned.

“Miss Smoak,” he said cordially. “Delighted to see you again. It’s been quite a while.”

“It has,” she agreed. “You need some technical assistance?” _Please not the email software, that took almost three hours to reinstall last time._

“Actually, I don’t,” Walter responded, waving at her to take a seat. “I have another request, which would be more of a favour than a job.” He didn’t wait for her to ask what, simply leaning forwards and bracing his arms on his desk. “Tonight Moira and I are holding a charity event at our home, and some new potential investors for Queen Consolidated will be attending. One of them is Belinda Entworth - I presume you’ve heard of her?”

_UM, DUH, WHO HASN’T._ “She’s the creator and CEO of Entworth Technologies,” Felicity answered. Everybody in the tech world had heard of Entworth - she single handedly had invented an entirely new coding program that significantly advanced the capabilities of server security. _Which is partly the reason why I was able to access the Dark Web and not get immediately hacked. “She’s interested in working with QC?”_

“She’s interested in working with Applied Sciences,” Walter corrected. “And considering that we’re merging the IT department with the Applied Technology division, I thought that having a member of our current IT staff present at the gala would be a good idea.”

Felicity’s eyebrows flew up and she pointed at herself. “Me?”

“I can’t think of anybody else I would rather have at my side to translate tech-speak.” Walter laughed. “As you can imagine, Moira and I aren’t very well-versed in the language of technology. And since Oliver was… away, for five years, he is even less so.”

“Oliver’s going to be there,” Felicity said, trying to keep her surprise at this concept out of her voice, when she knew that he was meant to be on Hood duty, taking down Warren, that night. “How did he take that news?”

“I wouldn’t know. Moira said she was going to ask him.”

“I don’t think she has yet,” the blonde replied. “I just saw Oliver, and from what I understood he already had… plans… for tonight.” _Plans involving dressing up in leather and arrowing people, which would probably really alarm you if you knew._

Walter looked startled; obviously this information confused him. “You saw Oliver today?”

“He came to my cubicle, needed some help with his cell phone.” The lies were pouring out of her at an alarming rate, which made Felicity uncomfortable, but she was determined to keep Oliver’s secret. _And why are you reacting to me saying I saw Oliver as if I’m claiming I saw a wild snow leopard or something?_ “Why, is that a surprise to you?”

“Not particularly,” Walter said, his voice indifferent. “It’s just... Moira, Thea and I haven’t seen Oliver in three days.”

Felicity swallowed. That was not a good thing. Had Oliver seriously not been home in three days? Did that mean that he was sleeping and living in the Foundry? _That is seriously not healthy, those cots are not suitable for sleeping on for any length of time longer than the appropriate length of a nap. Which I will not say. Because my idea of an appropriate length of time for a nap is probably not very appropriate at all. Okay, focus, Felicity._ “Three days?”

“He doesn’t sleep at the house anymore,” Walter said sadly. “I think ever since he arrived back in civilisation, he’s been struggling. Thea and Moira have expectations about Oliver, they want him to be the same boy they lost five years ago. My introduction to him was… less than ideal. All together, that’s driven him away from our family.” He smiled weakly. “I’m very glad he’s found a friend in you, Felicity.”

_A friend, Walter thinks that Oliver’s my friend. I am his friends. Ohmygod, we’re FRIENDS. We reached the favour-friends relationship status._ “And I’m honoured to be considered his friend,” Felicity replied, heat colouring her cheeks. Clearing her throat, slightly touched by the thought of Walter, a sort of father figure to her, approving of that, she said, “I’d love to come to the charity event, Walter. Thank you so much for inviting me. What time should I arrive?”

“We’ll send a car around to your apartment to pick you up - no, Felicity, I insist. You’re doing this as a favour to me, outside of your job.” Smiling, he said, “See you tonight.” It was a dismissal, but a kind and friendly one.

Taking her leave, Felicity finished her work for the day before heading home to her apartment. She configured some programs to let her know when Diggle or Oliver’s cell phones GPS’ signified that they were near any of the locations of the underground brothels. Yes, she had hacked the personal GPS microchips of both Diggle and Oliver’s cell phones. It wasn’t exactly difficult. Neither of them were very tech-proficient. As soon as that was set up to alert her cell phone, she searched through her wardrobe to pick out a dress, finally settling on one of her favourite dresses, a short emerald green number that she hoped would get a reaction out of Oliver. Slightly curling her hair so it fell down her shoulders in waves and putting in her contacts, she pulled on her high heels. She was just packing her purse with some thin flats, her glasses, and her phone and tablet, when her door was knocked on.

_Okay, if you’re a serial killer or mugger, please be aware that I will peck the shit out of you… and you can’t be aware, because I’m talking to myself in my head, again. Unless you’re a telepathic serial killer or mugger. That would be cool. Or, actually, really horrific._

“Good evening, Miss Smoak,” a friendly looking man in a black suit greeted her. Not a serial killer then. “My name’s Mr Becks, Mr Steele sent me to pick you up for the charity gala.”

“Hi,” Felicity greeted back. “Let me just lock up, I’ll be right with you.”

Queen mansion was huge. Honestly, when Felicity was driven up to it, seated in the back of a black sedan, she gaped wordlessly at the castle she was being presented with, beautifully lit with spotlights, the gardens pristine and looking stunning in the dusk sunset. _Holy hell, THIS cannot be where Oliver lives. His surname actually DOES reflect the hierarchy of his family. I know he’s rich, but he must be rich as FUCK._ Stepping out of the car and gazing admiringly up at the house, she was guided around the back and met by the sight of a large group of people congregated in a large rose courtyard that was lit by hanging fairy lights.

“Miss Smoak!” Walter strode up to her, looking very smart in a navy suit. “Very lovely to see you once again, thank you very much for coming.”

“My pleasure,” she smiled, flicking one section of hair behind her shoulder. _Be elegant and graceful, Felicity, just keep calm - be everything you’re NOT at the moment._ The oldest Queen woman was approaching them from behind Walter, eyes narrowed at her. _Okay okay keep cool the actual Queen of Starling City is coming up to you._ “Good evening, Mrs Queen,” she greeted her. _Nailed it._

Moira shot Walter a questioning look, which he answered by introducing, “Darling, this is Miss Smoak. She’s here at my request tonight. She’s our best member of staff in the IT department at QC.”

“Wonderful,” Moira said, although her face suggested that it was anything but. “So you’re the head of IT, then, dear?”

“Oh, no, I just work in IT.” _And that sounded really bad, didn’t it._

“One would have thought the best would be in charge of the department,” the older woman said, a glint in her eyes that made Felicity feel particularly uncomfortable.

“Yes, well...” _Oh god oh god what do I say. Walter, don’t just stand there, HELP ME!_ The blonde shifted in her heels, drawing her shoulders up defensively. “It’s complicated. And I’m honestly fine in my position at the moment, no need for change -”

“So you don’t believe that woman should advance in their job positions when they deserve it?”

_SHIT._ “That’s - that’s not what I -”

“Felicity!”

_Oh, thank god. Never have I appreciated more the fact that he’s always around the save the day._ Oliver walked up to them, pausing next to Felicity and placing one of his hands on her lower back supportively, openly opposing his mother to stand on the IT girl’s side. She blushed slightly when she realised that Oliver was sweeping his eyes up and down her appreciatively, licking his lips. So the emerald green dress definitely got a reaction out of him. Moira narrowed her eyes further, huffing a little suspiciously, whilst Walter looked genuinely surprised.

“We keep meeting,” the archer teased her, the grin on his face open and honest.

“Can’t say that I mind,” she replied back with a smirk. _Yep, keep the easy flirting going, Felicity, keep it casual, he’ll open up to you more._ “I’m your personal technical assistant, and considering how utterly useless you are with technology, I’m shocked I don’t get you visiting my cubicle daily.”

“I’m not that bad with technology,” Oliver rolled his eyes, his thumb rubbing gentle circles through her dress, which was actually quite soothing considering that Felicity was really not feeling very confident. “I can text. And make phone calls. And use the internet.”

“What’s Instagram?” Felicity tested.

“I have no idea,” Oliver replied back, grinning.

“Okay, do you know what a server is?”

“I know it means something to do with computers.”

“Please tell me you at least know what a USB drive is.”

“I’m not completely in the dark,” Oliver responded, his voice teasingly affronted. “Of course I do.”

“What is it then?”

“... It has memory and it remembers files and stuff from your computer.” He turned slightly defensive. “I know how to use one.”

“Great, you know how to use a USB drive.” She gave a slow, sarcastic clap, a cheeky smile on her face which he countered. “That leaves about a million other technical things that you’re going to need my help with.” _Which means I get to see you more, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing._

“You should start giving me lessons,” Oliver answered, his eyes shining.

Moira cleared her throat loudly, Walter looking between them alternatively with a small smirk. Felicity blushed, feeling herself heat up slightly. _I’m not a freaking zoo animal, stop staring at me, guys!_ Expecting Oliver to pull away from her after he jolted at the small sound his mother made, the blonde leant away slightly, however, Oliver just curled his fingers around her hip and gently encouraged her back to his side, so they were brushing, before his hand returned to rest on her back. _Okay, buddy, you’ve gotta move that hand soon because I’m getting clear signals at the moment whether you’re actually sending them or not, and that’s just being mean._

“Oliver, you know Miss Smoak,” Moira said stiffly.

“Felicity and I are friends,” Oliver replied firmly, staring at his mother and refusing to back down. _And once again, the fierce vigilante stands up for me. That’s our thing now._

“I fix the tech he breaks or doesn’t understand,” Felicity relayed more truthfully.

The vigilante fixed her with a tender look. “ _And_ , we’re also friends.” His eyes softened as he glanced down at her. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

“I asked her to come,” Walter smiled. “I’m going to need a technospeak translator for when I talk to Ms Entworth.”

“She’s the best,” Oliver grinned. “I actually understand what a hard drive is now and how to connect to wifi on my own thanks to her.”

“A massive feat,” Felicity sniggered.

“Hey, for a guy who was stranded on an island for five years, it is.”

Moira and Walter looked momentarily shocked. _He’s joking about the island! If that doesn’t prove he’s comfortable around me, I don’t know what does._ “Really?” she teased back, nudging him with her elbow. “No MySpace on the deserted island?”

Oliver narrowed his eyes. “That’s - that’s an old social networking thing, right? That’s out of fashion these days?”

“I am so proud of you right now.”

“Yeah, no MySpace. Couldn’t even order take-out.”

“Bummer,” Felicity deadpanned. “I guess after five years you got tired of charcoaled fish. And leaves.”

Oliver’s grin widened. “You think I ate leaves?”

“What else is there to eat on an island? Listen, okay, for the sake of our friendship -” She patted his shoulder. “You really betta not have drunk your own pee.”

He looked disturbed. “People do that?”

“Oh thank god,” she said seriously. “I don’t think I could be friends with somebody that drunk their own pee.” Suddenly remembering they had company, and where exactly they were, she squeezed her eyes closed. “I’m gonna shut up now, because this really isn’t the kind of conversation we should be having at your family’s fancy gala. In front of your mom and step-dad.”

Oliver laughed. Moira and Walter stared at him like he had grown a third head. Felicity’s heart swelled - she had made him laugh, and judging by his mother and stepfather’s expressions, that wasn’t something that Oliver did very often. “No, we’re fine. I don’t think anybody overheard.”

Walter took a small step, shifting his weight, and that was enough for both Felicity and Oliver to turn their attentions onto him. “Oliver, why don’t you show Felicity around the grounds?” he suggested. “Ms Entworth won’t be here for another hour, so we have some time to kill.”

“I think Oliver should make his rounds before -” Moira interrupted sternly, her voice upper crust and Felicity could just sense the disdain she had at the idea of her son spending time with an IT girl like her. And it actually pissed her off a lot. _Who the hell are you to judge me? You don’t even know me, and you apparently don’t even know your own son very well._

“It’s fine,” Walter cut in. “Let’s be honest, Moira, we didn’t ask Oliver to come to try and woo any investors or charity benefiters, we asked him to come to help us with QC’s appearance as a family company. I’m sure it would be okay if he spent some time with Felicity… giving her a tour.”

_There was a deliberate pause there. A deliberate pause. I see what you’re doing, Walter. You want me to spend more time with your step-son because you know he’s less PTSD-y afterwards. And that is exactly what I will do._ Turning to Oliver, Felicity raised an eyebrow. “You okay with that?”

“I’d be delighted,” he replied.

As Oliver led Felicity around the grounds, showing her the rose garden and talking about the history of the house and the Queen family, the blonde felt like she was seeing a completely different person. With nobody else around as they got further and further away from the house, and him just focusing on her, Oliver was relaxed. It was nothing like how he acted in the Foundry, on edge and hyped up on adrenalin, anticipating a fight or a chase; then, he was snappy and cold. However, here, with a familiar person in a familiar environment, he spoke with a soft, calm voice, and always seemed to make sure that there was a point of contact between them.

_He’s probably missed human contact_ , Felicity mused. _Well – judging by the scars – he’s missed kind human contact. I doubt his touch sensitivity makes it easier._

“ – which finally resulted in my father inheriting the house and grounds, meaning he was the seventeenth Queen heir to live here,” Oliver finished.

“And now the next Queen heir lives here too,” Felicity said.

Oliver’s eyes darkened, and he glanced away. _Shit, did I say something wrong?_ “I’m not much of a heir, Felicity. I doubt my father would have left the estate to me.”

“Why would you think that?” Felicity questioned, surprised.

Oliver shrugged, scuffing his shoe. “Just a feeling.”

“I think your father would have been immensely proud of you,” Felicity said. “You survived on your own for five years, going through a horrific experience, and came out the other side a stronger individual, with a better outlook on life. That’s the sort of thing that makes people proud, Oliver.”

“Before the island-“

“I know what you were like before the island, the media freak-out that erupted when you first arrived back resulted in a lot of people in Starling being reminded of your less admirable moments. But you’re not that person anymore.” She reached forwards and squeezed his hand. “Stop trying to be. I can see that you’re trying to please your mom and sister, because they had these expectations of you being the same, but if you keep it up, it’s gonna destroy you, Oliver.”

Oliver turned to her with a wary gaze, his eyes calculating. For one fleeting moment, Felicity felt a little threatened, because _Oh god that’s the Hood stare, he’s giving me the Hood stare, have I blown it?_ but then he seemed to relax more and just nod silently with a small smile. She was about to squeeze his hand again when at the most irritating and inappropriate time possible, her cell phone began to beep, alerts popping on the screen.

She groaned, tipping her head downwards. _And we were JUST getting somewhere._

“Need to take that?” Oliver asked, smirking.

Smiling apologetically, she explained (lying through her teeth once again), “IT have me on call tonight, they’re setting up some new QC servers. I betta see what they need me for. Thank you so much for showing me around, Oliver.”

“It was my pleasure,” the archer replied. “We’ll have to hang out more often, I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too. Would… would it be way too early and completely inappropriate to ask you if you want to go out for a coffee?”

Oliver’s grin was genuine and wide, and his eyes were sparkling with mirth, that made Felicity beam back at him. “Five years away from civilisation kinda means I can’t read social cues, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Great,” Felicity chuckled. “I haven’t been able to read social cues since birth, so I suppose we’re both screwed.”

“We can be screwed together,” Oliver reassured, before frowning. “Not literally.”

“Yeah, there won’t be any screwing,” the blonde agreed. Realising what she just said, she went beetroot red and groaned. “Of any kind. At all. Unless that’s - unless that’s something we’d both… want…” she trailed off awkwardly, her eyes wide in horror as she stared at the ground. “I’m gonna shut up and go and check my cell phone now. Bye, Oliver, thanks for everything and see you later.”

She strode off rather quickly, her head ducked to her chest and eyes squeezed shut. _Such a fucking idiot, Felicity. Such an idiot. That was way, way too forward, he would have seen right through that, he probably wants nothing to do with you now -_

“Hey, Felicity!”

She turned back, raising her eyebrows at Oliver’s shout.

“Yes. To the coffee date,” he called back. He grinned. “Enjoy the rest of your evening!”

Nodding and choking on her own inhalation of air, Felicity began walking off again back towards the party. _Holy fucking shit, I just asked Oliver Queen out. On a coffee date. And HE SAID YES. Wait - don’t assume he knows that is an actual date date. He might think it's a friends date. A date between friends. Like a meeting - but he specifically said date. Oh god, this is gonna bother me all evening. That and the fact that there’s this tension between us because we know each other but he doesn’t KNOW that we know each other - and I can’t tell him that we do because that would mean explaining that I have shapeshifting powers and the kestrel he nursed back to health was me. And if I told him that, he’d think I was insane, and -_

Her phone buzzed again, interrupting her train of thought. Sighing, the IT girl headed around a corner so she was just out of sight of the party, so had enough privacy. Fishing her cell phone out of her purse, she quickly flicked through the alerts there. Apparently, even though Oliver was absent from the field, he and Diggle were still trying to take down the brothels. Her program had picked up some CCTV footage of somebody of Diggle’s build approaching one of the locations.

Swiftly hacking into the CCTV network around that area, Felicity immediately flinched as she was met with the grainy, unclear sight of the man she suspected to be Diggle viciously fighting two men in hand to hand combat. He was struggling. After a few minutes of grappling and some violent punches, Diggle seemed to have beaten the trio of men, and Felicity was about to log off, feeling relieved, when a dark figure appeared on screen. She clapped a hand to her mouth when the dark man hit the bodyguard with extreme force on the back of the head, and Diggle crumpled, before being dragged out of frame.

“Oh shit,” she whispered. Sure, she wasn’t particularly fond of Diggle, especially since he hadn’t been especially welcoming nor kind to her when she had first been trapped in the Foundry in kestrel form, but she didn’t want him to get hurt.

She poked her head around the corner, desperately searching with her eyes for Oliver. He was talking quietly to Thea with a champagne glass in hand, away from the rest of the large group. Judging by his soft smile and slightly relaxed position, the archer had no idea that his partner had just been attacked and was in a heap of trouble. And there was no chance of him being clued in if Diggle was unconscious and trapped.

_I have to help. Somehow. I have to tell Oliver about Diggle. Dammit, but I can’t do that without letting him know that I know about them, and that means I would have to explain how, which would lead to me having to reveal myself as a shifter. Which you’re not meant to do._

Felicity looked back down at her cell phone, which she was now gripping tightly with pale white knuckles. Her hand was shaking a little. The CCTV footage was still being shown, but it just showed a dark, grainy, empty alleyway. There was no way to know whether or not Diggle was still alive and just had been captured moments ago, or whether or not he had just been dragged out of frame and executed. Either way, Felicity had to know, and she knew that she had to help. Every instinct within her body was yelling at her to shift into her kestrel form in order to properly process the threat, as her bird of prey form gave her a different, and more practical perspective. But even the kestrel side of her was screaming at her to go straight to Oliver.

The strongest part of her mind, the kestrel part of her, was talking to her firmly: _You want to go to Oliver. So go straight to Oliver. But you have to immediately catch his attention. You have to make him trust you without question and follow you into a private space. And then you have to reveal your secret. You have to shift back into human form and reveal you’re a shifter, before explaining about Diggle._

The thought of exposing herself and making herself so vulnerable and open to Oliver was completely terrifying. She had never told anybody that she was a shifter. The only other person on the surface of the earth that knew about her powers was her mother, and she had known since she had been a child that she had shifter blood in her veins. Due to online forums, she knew that shifters that did happen to reveal themselves ended up murdered and killed within the week. She didn’t want that to be her. Hunters were always a threat, and the threat of scientists capturing and experimenting on them existed as well. Maybe it was the idea that she didn’t know what Oliver’s reaction was going to be to her revelation, and it could possibly be bad. That scared the shit out of her - she had seen Oliver at her worst, angry and furious, when he was the Arrow, and she didn’t want that directed at her, ever.

_I gotta do this. I gotta do this for Diggle, but I’ve gotta do this for me too. I have to learn to trust. I have to learn to confide and rely on others._

Making up her mind, she fished out the wound up metal chain that attached to her purse so she could sling it across her shoulder, before crouching down and shifting. The scorching heat that accompanied the shift enveloped her form, sending fire and adrenaline shooting through her veins and her vision to white out for a second; moments later, she was in her small kestrel form, fluttering her wings out to straighten her feathers. It was always disorientating to suddenly become so tiny and have the world loom above her, so Felicity shook herself and took a moment to get comfortable in her bird form before taking off.

Shooting up into the night sky and quickly circling around the top of the Queen mansion twice, the kestrel zeroed in on Oliver, still standing next to Thea. Tucking her wings to her sides and falling out of the higher air current, icy cold night air ruffling her tail feathers, Felicity dove straight towards the archer, with a determined, _Let’s do this thing._

* * *


	3. ~ Part 3 ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back once again :) At a friend's house posting this chapter. Thanks once again for all the amazing support and comments, I really appreciate all your lovely words.

* * *

Oliver watched Felicity hurry away from him with a small smile on his face, hands clasped behind him. He had been dreading spending the evening constricted by a tight suit and being pestered by nosy friends of his mother and stepfather, so Felicity had been unexpected, but delightful surprise. He had been thrilled to take her away from the crowd and tell her about the mansion’s history, especially when it was a subject he knew a lot about. When he and Tommy were younger, Robert used to keep the both of them occupied during the colder winter months, in which they couldn’t run their energy off outside, by teaching them about the Queen and Merlyn ancestry. He proudly told her everything. And unlike other past guests, who had ignored him or patted him like they were praising a dog, she had grinned and listened. It was nice to finally feel appreciated by somebody.

_Definitely looking forwards to that coffee date_ , he thought happily.

“Oh my god. It’s a miracle. I should call the press over here - heaven forbid Oliver Queen be _smiling!_ ”

The archer rolled his eyes. “Hey, sis.”

Thea bounded up beside him and immediately linked her arm with his, leaning into his side. She was wearing a new coral blue dress and her hair was carefully styled, but she didn’t seem to care, as she rested on head on Oliver’s shoulder, squishing her precious curls. “Who was that? I like her.”

“You haven’t even met her, Thea,” Oliver replied. _Although I can understand you liking her before properly knowing her, considering that’s kind of what happened with me..._

“Yes, but she made you smile,” Thea responded, nudging him. She went on the tip of her toes to try and catch one last glance at Felicity’s back before she vanished into the throng of guests. “Who was she? I didn’t recognise her.”

“Felicity Smoak, she works in IT at QC,” he informed her. “Walter invited her.”

“Are you two dating?”

“What - no!” Oliver answered, slightly annoyed. _So what, I show a little interest in a girl and you immediately assume that we’re together? I’m not that shallow._ “We’re just friends, Thea. Since I got back, she’s been helping me get used to the technology.”

“Oh,” his sister said, sounding somewhat disappointed. “Because from the way you were looking at her ass -”

“Thea!” he snapped warningly.

“Kidding, kidding,” she rolled her eyes. “You should totally ask her out though.”

_I’ve been wanting to for a while, but why do you think that?_ “... Why?”

“Because I haven’t seen you smile like you just did in five years, and anybody who can make you smile like that has to be good for you.” They began walking side by side back towards the party, pausing on the outskirts and just observing their mother and step-father talking to one-percenters they were meant to know the names of, but didn’t. “So, you gonna ask her out?”

“We’re going on a coffee date,” Oliver admitted.

Thea’s eyebrows shot up. “As in a _date_ date coffee date or a _friends_ date coffee date.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t really know. Although she did make a sort of Freudian slip about screwing.” _I really hope it’s an actual date though. We didn’t define it aloud, so I guess it could be._

“Wait, who asked who?”

“She asked me. I agreed.”

Thea nodded, eyes flickering over the crowd once again before she turned back to him and asked seriously, with some hesitance in her voice, “What about Laurel?”

Oliver’s mood instantly changed, his heart dropping like a stone in his chest. _Why the fuck did you have to bring up Laurel, Thea? Why? I was having an okay evening up until now._ “Laurel and I are done, Thea. There’s nothing there anymore.”

Thea bit her lip. “Really? Because when you came back -”

“I was hung up on an ideal that was born by a mind addled by survival,” Oliver said lowly, his shoulders tensing up. “That I could return home and everything would return to normal.” Exhaling forcefully, he continued, “That was idiotic and stupid, Thea. Nothing can be the same. I’m completely different, everybody’s changed. My relationship with Laurel was toxic, and emotionally abusive. For both of us. That ship has sailed and sunk.” He laughed bitterly. “Literally.”

“Ollie -”

Whatever Thea had been about to say was interrupted, however, by a familiar falcon call. _No, no, it can’t be - She wouldn’t be able to follow me here, that would be impossible._ Oliver looked up in amazement. He barely had time to take in the kestrel diving towards him before she circled around and collided sharply with his shoulder upon landing on it. Thea made a screeching sound of shock and backed away, as the kestrel folded in her wings and chirped in greeting to the archer.

“How did you find me here?” he whispered. _How did you even know this is where I live? Have you been following me?_ “What are you doing here?”

“Ollie, what the hell…?” Thea hissed frantically, her eyes darting back and forth between the archer and the bird of prey.

“She’s my friend’s pet,” he explained quickly, reaching up to stroke down her feathers. “Obviously she got loose and tried to find somebody she knew.”

The sight of Oliver Queen dressed in a suit with a kestrel perched on his shoulder was starting to attract attention, some of the guests beginning to come closer, whispering to each other under their breaths. Feeling uncomfortable at the thought of being the centre of attention, Oliver grabbed Thea’s hand and yanked her towards the cover of some trees, nearby the small plot of land where their father’s grave was located. The kestrel balanced herself expertly on his shoulder, making small, quiet chirping sounds and nipping and nuzzling his cheek.

“How did she know to find you here?” Thea questioned suspiciously, still not getting too close to the kestrel but seeming to regain some of her confidence.

_Come on, gotta come up with something believable, even though you’re asking yourself the exact same question._ “My friend brought her over here last week to fly around the grounds, she must have remembered and flew here.”

“Right,” Thea said disbelievingly. “She just randomly remembered how to direct herself here, when she was probably in a cage the entire journey here last week. Which _friend_ of yours does she belong to?”

“Nobody you know.” _Just nobody._

The kestrel made a sort of frustrated chirrup noise and nipped his cheek, causing the archer to scowl at her. But then she fixed her fierce gaze on him, not blinking, and he realised instantly that she was trying to tell him something. Oliver was about to make an excuse to Thea so that he could get away with the kestrel, but then Walter and Moira approached them, both of them looking bemused and stunned at the view of their son standing with a powerful bird of prey on his shoulder.

“Oliver?” Moira asked. “What’s going on?”

“It’s complicated,” he offered.

Moira looked angry now. Oliver had no idea why her patience was so thin that night; perhaps there was pressure to deliver from Queen Consolidated to get Entworth on board with some new project, and she wanted thinks to be perfect. But then again, his mother hadn’t been very understanding ever since he’d come back.

“Everything’s complicated when it comes to you, these days,” she said shortly.

“Moira,” Walter scolded, frowning at his wife’s sudden exasperation. He turned back to Oliver. “Son, I think what we’re all wondering is why there’s a American Kestrel… well…” He waved a hand at said bird, raising his head. “But that’s not exactly a pressing matter at the moment - what is, is where Miss Smoak is.”

Oliver himself was confused now. “She went to take a call from the IT department, I thought she would have re-joined the party afterwards.” _You haven’t seen her? Where would she have gone?_

“A call from IT? She’s not on call tonight, if it’s about the new servers - I specifically requested that she have the evening off for this event. Where is she?”

“She said she had to take a call so she left me,” Oliver defended.

Moira fixed him with a scathing look, which made the vigilante shrink back slightly. “Oliver, young pretty impressionable girls do not just end up _walking away_ from you. So help me God, young man, if I find out Felicity’s disappearance had anything to do with a impromptu closet rendezvous -”

“Wait, Felicity Smoak, your friend, Felicity?” Thea questioned. At Oliver’s nod, she faced Walter and Moira and confirmed, “Yeah, she walked away from Ollie about ten minutes ago, back towards the party. He’s been talking to me since then, and trust me, I saw her leave.”

Moira glared at her daughter. “Don’t try and cover for your brother, Thea.”

“I’m not -”

“Oliver Jonas Queen, if I go upstairs in your room and find Miss Smoak there, in any kind of state of undress -”

“Mom!” Oliver hissed, eyes wide. _She can’t honestly think - I’m not that kind of person anymore, how could she think that I would do that?_

“Moira!” Walter said, sounding offended on the archer’s behalf.

“Felicity and I are good friends!” Oliver said ferociously, stepping forwards into his mother’s personal space. Seeing her take a wary step backwards sent a satisfied feeling sweeping through his body. “And I am not that type of person anymore, Mom. Maybe if you accepted that and actually accepted _me_ for who I am now, you would know that when I say that Felicity walked back to the party to take a call, _she walked back to the party to take a call_.”

Something close to guilt and regret passed over Moira’s face. “Oliver, I didn’t mean -”

“No, you meant exactly what you said,” he replied. “Everybody here knows that.” Straightening his back and turning to his step-father, he said seriously, “Walter, I’m sorry, I don’t know where Felicity has gone. As both Thea and I said, Felicity left me so that she could take a call, which she claimed was to do with work, ten minutes ago, now fifteen minutes ago. I will ask around if anybody has seen her, and I will search myself. If I see her, I’ll point her in your direction.”

The kestrel shifted on his shoulder, giving a soft chirp. Oliver immediately lifted his hand to trail his fingers down her soft feathers, exhaling out calmly, trying to regulate his harsh breathing. Pushing past Moira and ignoring his mother and step-father’s frantic calls for him to come back, Oliver strode off towards the front of the house, quickly gaining distance from the lights so that he was bathed in comfortable darkness. The kestrel was quiet once again on his shoulder, her tail feathers bobbing up and down with each of his strides.

_Where would Felicity go? Why would she lie about having a call from work? How could she just disappear? This just doesn’t make sense._ His eyes scanned the crowd, but he still couldn’t catch a glimpse of the blonde IT girl. _She must have left. Except that doesn’t make sense either, because she knew she came here with a job to do._

_She left urgently, when her cell phone started alerting and then she just… vanished. Vanished only minutes before… before…_

He stopped abruptly. The realisation streaked through him, making his chest tighten and him feel almost breathless. His heart beat immediately increased, his mind trying to process the information, making connections that he was almost reluctant to accept.

Felicity Smoak had disappeared only moments before the kestrel had appeared.

Very slowly, he raised his arm for the kestrel to hop down onto. She stepped down onto it silently, and then he walked over to the stone wall surrounding one of his mother’s prized rose gardens, settling her down on one of the higher posts there. Oliver’s breath stuttered when the beautiful bird of prey flared and tucked her wings, gazing at him without blinking.

Swallowing and worrying his lip for a moment, the archer finally gave in to his curiosity and intense need to know whether or not _it was true_ , and that _this was real_ , and whispered, “Felicity?”

A beat of silence, and then the kestrel lowered her head, spreading her wings and gliding down to the ground. The air surrounding her suddenly became wavy, like a massive, strong heat wave was passing in that very spot, and the bird’s form blurred. Oliver had to close his eyes for a moment to stop them from hurting, because just attempting to focus his sight for a second hurt. When he opened them again, the kestrel had vanished. In her place stood a very sheepish, cautious Felicity Smoak. Her emerald green dress was slightly ruffled, her hair tousled, but other than that, she was her usual self, although wracked with anxious, skittish energy.

“Hey,” she greeted him weakly, flicking one lock of loose blonde hair behind her ear, nervously shifting on her feet.

“Hey,” he said back dumbly, frozen.

“So, um…” Felicity spread her arms out, as if giving a presentation. “Surprise! I’m a shifter. And I’m the kestrel you nursed back to health after I stupidly broke some feathers and sprained my wing.” She gave a small, hesitant laugh, before she quietened. She looked like she wanted to bolt any second, obviously scared of his reaction.

The archer nodded slowly. “Right, okay…” _This actually makes a whole lot more sense now. Although I’m kind of internally freaking out. But you really shouldn’t let that show. Just have a silent mental breakdown trying to understand what the FUCK is going on._ “You’re my little _coколица_.”

“Yes. Um, that would be correct.” Felicity worried her hands together, lacing and twisting her fingers around. “Really meant to tell you, Oliver, you’re not very imaginative when naming your pets,” she tried to joke, chuckling shakily, “I mean, you named the girl kestrel you found, in Russian ‘female falcon’. Haha. And you put the little in front, so you named me ‘little female falcon’. Haha…”

_Trying to distract us both by using humour, classic avoidance tactic. She obviously doesn’t want to talk. I’ll have to force her to break._ He shook his head slowly. “Felicity, why didn’t you tell me?”

She lowered her gaze to the floor, mumbling, “It’s a long story.”

_Long story? That’s your answer? And I thought I was bad with excuses._ “Okay. Fine. New question, and this requires the shortest answer in the world - were you going to tell me?”

She didn’t answer, not meeting his eyes as she said, “We have more pressing matters at hand.”

His anger made him see red, and Oliver took a threatening step towards her, not taking notice for a moment of the way Felicity flinched and backed away a little. “Dammit, Felicity, yes or no! Were you going to tell me?”

“No! I wasn’t, alright?” she snapped, her own fury becoming visible as she finally met his eyes and stared at him, her hands trembling. “I wasn’t going to tell you, I wasn’t going to tell anyone. I’ve never told anybody before. I was too scared.”

He deflated. _Yeah, she looks scared. She looks like she thinks I’m going to hurt her._ “You were scared? Of me? What, did you think I wasn’t going to accept you?”

“People usually don’t react well when they discover shifters,” Felicity murmured, and for Oliver, it was like a punch to the gut, the memories of reading newspapers about exposed shifters being murdered and brutally killed, or kidnapped and tortured by illegal scientists. _Does she think that I’ll kill her? Is that why she didn’t tell me? Because she thought that I would snap and consider her wrong, or a threat, and shoot arrows at her?_

“Felicity, I have no issues whatsoever with you being a shifter,” he said. “Hell, on the island I became really good friends with three shifters.” She looked surprised at his admittance, but he plowed on, “I can’t believe you thought that if you told me, I would hurt you.”

She laughed bitterly. “Can you blame me? After what’s happened to all the other shifters that have revealed themselves?”

“You’re my friend,” he insisted. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“You’re angry with me.” She was shaking. God, she was trembling, she was actually afraid of him.

Forcing himself to calm down, he shook his head, trying to reach out to touch her arm. When she flinched away, Oliver softened his tone. “I’m not angry at you because you’re a shifter, Felicity, I’m angry that you didn’t tell me, and that you weren’t ever planning on telling me. I thought you trusted me.”

“Look, okay, the fact that I wasn’t planning to tell you that I’m a shifter is null, because now I have, and it’s because Diggle’s in trouble and we both need to help him.”

_A mission. Okay, focus on the mission. Push away all your emotions about this, take a breather and focus on the mission at hand._ “What’s happened to Diggle?” he demanded, taking a hold of her elbow and beginning to walk her towards the garage, where his Ducati was parked up.

“You sent him out on his own to take down one of Warren’s underground brothels, but he was met by her extensive security, and she knew that you’d be targeting her so she hired some German mercenaries. Diggle was attacked by them,” she relayed. “And yes, I’ve been monitoring what you’ve been up to as the vigilante - practically gave me your mission plan for this operation, asking me to hack into that server for you. Did you really think that I wouldn’t take a sneak peek at what you were snooping around looking for in that system?”

“Focus, Felicity,” he ordered, grabbing his helmet and ducking into the garage to pick up a second one for her. All thoughts of returning Felicity to the party for Walter were gone from his mind - Felicity said that Diggle was in trouble, and despite her lying to him about her shifting abilities, he did still trust her. “Diggle was attacked?”

“Yes, I hacked into CCTV and saw him fighting some of the guards. He ended up being knocked out and dragged out of frame, so he’s either been captured or… or…” She looked sick at the thought of his bodyguard being killed, but it didn’t make Oliver nauseous, only angry.

He yanked out his cell phone and checked Diggle’s tracker. “No, his tracker’s still active and showing a steady heartbeat, he’s unconscious. They’re keeping him captive.” He vaulted onto his Ducati, starting up the engine. “You ever ridden a motorbike before?”

Felicity swallowed nervously as he passed over a helmet for her. “No. You know, I could just fly there.”

_Right, of course, because you’re a shifter, and your shifted form is a kestrel._ “No, we need to stick together. Get on.” She pulled on the helmet and followed his order immediately, vaulting on behind him. “Wrap your arms around my waist and don’t let go. Lean into the turns when I do.”

“Where are we going?” came Felicity’s muffled enquiry.

“The Foundry. I’m suiting up, you’re gonna do some tech magic and then I’m going to rescue Diggle.”

Revving the Ducati’s engine and feeling Felicity’s arms hesitantly wrap around his waist, holding on tightly, Oliver kicked the bike into gear and sped off. He had to physically shake himself to try and escape the distraction that was Felicity’s body pressed up close against his back, simply radiating heat onto him. _Focus on the mission._

He would rescue Diggle, and then Felicity and he were going to have a conversation. An honest conversation. And she was going to tell him everything.

* * *

It was the weirdest feeling being in the dark Foundry as a human for the first time, although she had practically lived inside for a month in her bird form. Oliver immediately led her down the stairs by the elbow, guiding her towards the computer set-up. Realising what he wanted her to do, Felicity began using the system to pick up Diggle's tracker and research the security around that location. She was distracted slightly by the sight of Oliver stripping down in the corner to pull on his vigilante leathers; she had no idea why he hadn't gone into the restroom to change, and the view of his abs and chest presented to her made her face heat up.

"I've found Diggle's location," Felicity said quietly. _And dear god, please put a shirt on before I start drooling._ "He's in an abandoned warehouse seven miles west of here - what is is with Starling and its huge number of empty hangers?"

"Failing economy," Oliver said shortly. "Production moving to China, companies pulling out of local industry. Factories shut down, the warehouses were emptied, abandoned and forgotten."

"How'd you know that?"

"Because that's what happened with this place," Oliver motioned to their surroundings. He finished zipping up his green jacket and clipped on his quiver as he strode over to her. "You got me coordinates?"

Felicity clicked the tab to show him, and watched silently as his cobalt eyes danced over the screen, taking in the information with a solemn, sombre impression. She blushed and looked away when he caught her staring. Quickly briefing him on the state of Warren's security, the archer mapped the best route into the warehouse, pointing it out to inform her.

"Okay," Felicity said, "When do we leave?"

Oliver's head reared back, and he regarded her with narrowed eyes as he repeated, "'We?'"

_Yes, that is what I just said._ "Yes, do you want me on flyover, spotting for you or do you want me in the getaway vehicle?"

"What makes you think you're coming out into the field?"

She fixed him with a flat look. "Oliver, you need back up. Don't argue, that is a simple fact. Diggle isn't here, sure, but I'm not letting you go out alone. At least let me be your eyes in the sky."

"It's too dangerous."

"More dangerous than being an exposed shifter in a world where my kind are murdered and experimented on? I can handle myself. You don't get to boss me around."

"When it comes to my partner and my mission, I do."

_Oh, you handsome, overprotective dolt._ "Look, Oliver," Felicity said patiently. "I know exactly how your operation works. I observed it for nearly a month. I know you have this hero spiel about taking charge and then going it alone. Sorry to say, but I'm not going to give in and let you walk all over me like Dig so often does. We're either partners in equal standing on this, working together, or we're both solo and I'll be out in the field without you knowing where I am. Your choice."

The archer looked taken back for a moment. He'd probably never been back chatted before by somebody a head shorter than him. Felicity refused to back down - she knew how stubborn Oliver could be, but if he truly trusted her, then he would give in and accept help.

They held an intense staring competition before Oliver broke, looking down at the floor angrily and muttering, "Fine, but I don't have to like it. You'll do a quick recon in the air to observe security, but then you'll be waiting in the van. You'll wear a comm and a tracker at all times and obey every single one of my orders. Clear?"

_We'll see about the waiting in the van part, but if agreeing to your rules now means that you'll agree to me being out in the field, then I'll play game._ "Crystal," she promised, nodding innocently.

Oliver still didn't seem sure, but as least he was letting her come now, albeit reluctantly. He passed her a tracker and a comm unit, watching pointedly as she clipped the tracker to her shirt and put the comm in her ear with a grimace. Felicity swore to herself that as soon as she was formally accepted into the team, she would update all the tech with better equipment and programs. Oliver picked up his bow, thumbing the string as he tilted his head, leading her towards the exit.

The van was parked in the alleyway behind Verdant, and Oliver led Felicity to it, insisting once again that she travel with him. She knew that it was his way of trying to protect and keep an eye on her, but it was slightly annoying knowing she could definitely fly there faster. Oliver drove, hood pulled up to shadow his face. Neither of them spoke, Felicity sensing the tension and reading it as Oliver not being willing to talk now he knew what he knew.

_Say something. Break the ice. Say anything._ "You've met three shifters before?"

"What?" Oliver questioned shortly, not moving his gaze from the road.

_Highly likely it's island territory, so prepare yourself for a shitty response, Smoak._ "You said before that you didn't have issues with shifters because you were friends with three. Was that... On the island?"

She expected him to close up and snap back at her, but instead he nodded and replied steadily, "A dingo shifter, a clouded leopard shifter, and a wolf shifter. I didn't work with the wolf very long, he was Russian and managed to escape in a submarine, but the dingo and the leopard were my allies, and we became good friends. I didn't care that they had the shifting ability, and they didn't care that I didn't." He finally turned to face her, shooting her a reassuring look. "I honestly have no qualms about you being a shifter, Felicity. I couldn't care less. I just can't believe you didn't tell me, and weren't planning to tell me, that you were the kestrel I nursed back to health in the Foundry."

"I didn't know how you were going to react," she replied quietly, tilting her head towards the window so she was gazing outside. _And I've seen you when you're angry with Diggle, and I never want that kind of anger directed towards me when I know it would be effortless for you to shoot me out of the sky._

After a beat, the vigilante said softly, "I'm sorry if I scared you."

She nodded. "It's just gonna take me a while to get used to somebody knowing about me, ya know?" _Well, knowing about me and not trying to kill me. Probably should avoid talking about that ex-boyfriend around Oliver._

"The Foundry will always be a safe space, if you need it," the archer informed seriously. "And you have any trouble, if you're ever in danger, come straight to me. I'll protect you. Diggle as well." A smirk grew on his face before he asked amusedly, "What's your deal with Dig anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you were a kestrel you kept on screeching and pecking him. And earlier today you gave him the stink-eye. Do you not like him?"

"How would you like somebody after they called you a vulture and joked about you eating birdseed and being a pet?" She grumbled. "He wasn't exactly welcoming. I'm pretty sure he hates me, at least in bird form."

"You grew on him," Oliver chuckled. "He likes you now. He bought you special snacks and everything."

"I have no idea how I'm going to break this to him." She shuddered. _Even if Oliver's accepting and I don't have to worry about arrows, if Diggle has issues with shifters, then I'm done for. I've seen his aim with a hand gun._

Oliver's hands tightened around the steering wheel, and he said in a steely voice, "If he threatens you or shows any discrimination towards you at all, you tell me immediately." There was a beat of frigid silence. "I don't think there should be a problem," Oliver eventually tried to reassure. "I mean, he was in the special forces. There are bound to be a whole group of shifters employed specially in the army."

"They didn't lie to him for nearly a month," she said quietly. Her falcon eyes catching sight of the street name, she perked up and told him, "We're a block away from the warehouse. Pull over."

Oliver shot her a weird, questioning look but did as she ordered, obviously not used to being bossed around but listening to her for some reason unknown. Pulling up the satellite tracking program on her tablet, she passed it over to him. It showed Diggle's blue blinking tracker dot, and now her red one and Oliver's green one too.

"I'll tell you how many guards there are and where they're located when I get back," she said, unclipping her seat belt and peering out into the street. "Don't worry, I've got this area of the Glades memorised, so it shouldn't be too hard."

Oliver opened his mouth to protest - _don't do it_ \- but then he bit his lip and nodded, although his displeased look did not disappear. "Where should I meet you with the van?" She pointed on the map and he nodded again. "Okay... please be careful."

Realising he was worried - _aw, he's concerned about my safety. That's sweet but also quite patronising_ \- she set her hand on top of his on the gear stick. "Oliver, I promise you, I will be fine. If something goes wrong, I will fly straight back to you. I wouldn't be signing up for this if I didn't know what I was getting into."

And with that, Felicity kicked open the door and allowed the intense wave of heat that accompanied the shift to consume her body, shrinking her form and feathers to spout through her tightening skin. Blinking and stretching out her wings with a shrill falcon call, she fluttered up to perch on the window ledge. Oliver was gazing at her with wide eyes, and she preened at the awe and admiration she saw there. With one last chirp and bobbing of her tail feathers, she darted out into the cool air of the night, swooping straight into a rising air current and soaring upwards.

The surveillance and inspection of the areas around the warehouse was a quick job, at at the speed Felicity was flying, diving and rising above the buildings, it only took a few minutes. Swooping down to the meeting point, she saw Oliver with his head stuck out the van's window, looking worriedly to the skies.

_Stealthy, inconspicuous vigilante, my ass. You're literally in plain sight at the moment, Oliver._

He opened the door to allow her to land on the shotgun seat with a flutter of feathers. Shaking herself out for a moment, Felicity startled in surprise when Oliver's fingers brushed her wing's feathers gently, his expression impassive but softened. He drew his hand back though when Felicity chirped and shook her wings out, trying to signify to him that she was planning to shift back.

Seconds later she was back in human form, eyes squeezed shut due to dizziness and hands trembling ever so slightly. The last time she had ever felt so drained of energy from shifting was when she was a teenager. _Sloppy and out of practise_ , she scolded herself, _Got to try and make things smoother for yourself, Smoak._

Oliver leaned over and placed his hand on her shoulder, questioning concernedly, "Are you okay?"

She tried to smile. "I'm fine."

He shook his head. "Wrong answer. You look like you're about to pass out." Taking a hold of her wrist, he began checking her pulse.

Shoving his hand away, she frowned, irritated. "We're on a timescale here, Oliver."

"I can't have my partner fainting on me, can I?" he said, sending her a stern look. She finally allowed him to check her pulse and pupil reactions. "I didn't know that shifting hurt."

"It doesn't usually," Felicity reassured. "Once you've learnt how to do it properly, it's painless. And I'm not dizzy because of pain, I'm dizzy because the shift back into human form takes a lot of energy, and I haven't eaten today."

"Once we rescue Dig, we're getting you some food."

"Then shouldn't you be out there rescuing him right now, so I can eat as soon as possible?" she said pointedly.

The scowl he shot her way caused her to grin. Relaying the location of the guards and pointing out on a map where his best approach options were, they quickly constructed a bare-bones plan. Grumbling as it became obvious to him that Felicity wasn’t going to be taking a back seat in the mission, Oliver told her to watch the feed on the tablet from the satellite thermal imaging camera he was 'borrowing' from ARGUS. Then, nocking an arrow to his bow and drawing back in preparation of a fight, he hopped out of the van and set off. Felicity quickly picked him up on the screen and followed his progress.

He almost immediately met two guards when turning a corner, but the sharp thwing of the release of the bowstring startled Felicity more than the gunfire did. The two red blobs opposing the archer on camera crumpled.

"You're not planning on killing all these guys, are you?" she asked stiffly. _I can deal with the thought of you being a murderer, but hearing and seeing it happen as a witness is another thing entirely._

"No," Oliver came back calmly through the comm. "I'm firing non-lethal shots into their shoulders and legs before knocking them out."

"Good," Felicity responded in relief. _At least I'm not an accessory to mass murder._ "By the way, as you turn that corner, you're gonna meet three guys."

They were down in seconds. "Got them."

"These guys should really know to stay out of the vigilante's way," she snickered. "Your reputation proceeds you. I'm surprised they're not running scared."

"Money is a good motivator," Oliver grunted as he took down another two guys upon approaching the side entrance to the warehouse. "I'm at the door, now, Felicity, how many men behind this?"

"Five," she stabbed her finger into the five blobs on the screen. "I think I know where Diggle is, I'll guide you to him once you take them out."

"Copy that. Stand by."

Humming to herself gently, she listened to the sound of the men's yells and screams as they were attacked by the Hood and very swiftly put down, none of them a match of for the highly skilled vigilante. _Wonder how Oliver trained. Not like he could have just signed up for martial arts and archery classes on that island - well, vigilante classes. Not exactly the prime location to find teachers for any of those skills either._

"You'd be surprised," Oliver said, sounding amused.

Realising what his response meant, the blonde groaned. "Did I say that aloud?"

"You didn't mean to?"

"No. I have no brain to mouth filter. Just focus on the mission - behind you!"

He turned just in time to strike down the guy trying to sneak up and knock him out with a bat. On screen, the red blob that represented the archer swivelled around, surveying the men strewn out unconscious around him. "Thanks. Nice call."

"You're welcome. Head north-east, the warehouse is split into seven sections and Diggle's in the middle. There should be a door to your right, Oliver."

"Code names please," he requested calmly, moving through the door.

"Fine, Hood," she rolled her eyes. "Awful code name by the way."

Oliver huffed. "I didn't choose it - the media did their job and chose it for me."

"Well the media did a lousy job." _Wait wait wait, does this mean I get a code name?_ "What's my code name?"

"You're a guest, you don't need a code name."

"Oh, okay then," she said, making sure that she sounded offended. "I guess that comment about us being partners was an empty one."

"Diggle doesn't even have a code name yet," Oliver replied defensively, shooting another three men and kicking one violently in the face. "You'll get one when he does."

"That sucks," she muttered. "Next door you need to go through is two metres or so to your left, four guys behind it - and Diggle."

She settled back in her seat, absentmindedly watching the screen as she observed the surroundings, the dark alleyway in which the van was parked. Vaguely hearing Oliver greet Diggle and a sarcastic, pained response from the man, a smile quirked Felicity's lips. _Well, he can't be that badly injured if he's still maintaining his usual level of sarcasm and sass with Oliver._

"How is he?" She questioned.

Oliver's reply was laced with relief and strain from carrying the larger man. "Gonna need the medical kit when he get back for a few deeper cuts, but other than that, just a little beat up and achy. Nothing serious I don't think." In the background, Diggle asked who he was talking to. "Felicity Smoak. It's a long story, we'll explain later. She's got our ride out of here. Felicity?"

Lifting her feet up onto the dashboard and yawning, she pulled the tablet into her lap. "Your exit route's blocked by three guards - wait." She squinted at the screen. "Something's - what...?"

"Felicity?" he asked urgently. The screen showed that the archer had frozen in place, obviously wary due to her words. Diggle was still being supported by him, one of the bodyguard's massive arms draped across the vigilante's shoulders. "Talk to me."

One of the red heat signature blobs on the screen that was vaguely human shaped was burning a deep red colour, far hotter than the humans around it. She watched wide-eyed, fear niggling at her. The pulsing heat faded, leaving a very different shape behind.

_Shit. Shit shit shit._ "Oliver, you and Dig need to get out of there. Right now. Get out of there!"

"What's wrong? What's happening, Felicity?!" The vigilante ordered desperately.

Keeping her eyes fixed on the red blob, in the shape of a large big cat, that was prowling the area, Felicity whispered, "They have a shifter. They have a big cat shifter and they've shifted. They're blocking your exit." _Now please get out of there, I don’t want you to get hurt, you or Diggle, and if that shifter gets their claws on you, then you’ll be dead._

There was the muffled sound of Oliver relaying this information to Diggle, and the quiet noise of the bodyguard swearing, before Oliver said, “I’m gonna put Dig down for a second and have a peek through the door, see what kind of big cat it is.”

Felicity’s heartbeat spiked. “No! That’s way too dangerous -”

“I’ve dealt with larger forms of shifters before, Felicity, I promise you, I will be fine.”

_Not if that big cat shifter turns out to be a fucking LION._ “Dealing with a clouded leopard shifter is a lot different to dealing with a tiger or panther, Oliver! Please, let’s just think about this for a moment, re-evaluate and come up with an alternate plan. Anything that doesn’t involve you - Oliver?” There was only static at the end of the comm. _FUCK YOU, OLIVER QUEEN, YOU BETTER NOT HAVE TAKEN YOUR COMM OUT._ “OLIVER!”

No response. Felicity snarled in frustration, tearing out her own comm, opening the passenger door of the van and chucking it violently out into the street. It made a satisfying crack as it hit the wall. _How could he take out his comm? How DARE HE?_ The idea of Oliver deliberately ignoring her, just because he didn’t like that she was telling him he wasn’t a match for a shifter, sent fury rushing through her veins. Throwing all caution to the wind and disregarding the archer’s orders to remain inside the van, Felicity jumped out, shifted and soared upwards.

She could feel a bone deep exhaustion plaguing her, heat pulsing throughout her feathers as she beat her wings and corkscrewed downwards towards the warehouse; swiftly finding an opening, a hole in the flimsy roofing, the kestrel gave a harsh screeching call and dove through it, shooting towards the centre of the building where she knew Diggle and Oliver were holed up, the vigilante inevitably facing off against the big cat shifter.

_KESTREL COMING THROUGH. Better move your fucking asses AWAY from my vigilante, or you’ll sorely regret it._

It didn’t take very long at all for Felicity to track down Oliver, Diggle and the big cat shifter. She perched on the top of a scrap metal pile, chirping alarmedly at the sight she came across. Oliver was crouched defensively, bow being wielded like a staff whilst a very large black panther snarled at him. The fur on the cat’s black pelt was on end, his hackles raised and lips drawn back in a feral growl. One paw raised, eyes flat against his skull, the panther shifter gave another piercing snarl, his long black tail lashing back and forth menacingly.

Bloodied tears littered over Oliver’s body told Felicity that he’d already suffered by the panther’s lethal claws. There was a wild, scared glint in his eyes as he circled the panther, twirling his bow. Tearing her eyes away from the vigilante for a second, Felicity searched for Diggle worriedly. She found him leaning against the wall a few metres away, clothes ripped and stained with blood, looking a little worse for wear.

_Hey, at least Diggle’s not passed out yet and Oliver hasn’t been torn to shreds?_ Felicity said weakly, trying to see the upside of this situation.

She readied herself to fly down to help Oliver’s defense just as the black leopard lunged upwards with a roar and snapped his jaws. Luckily, Oliver avoided the bite, but the panther collided with his body, its massive size forcing the archer to fall backwards with a pained yell. Anger overwhelming her, with a fierce screech, Felicity tucked her wings and shot downwards, talons outstretched. Striking them downwards into the panther’s eyes, the cat gave a screaming yowl of agony, attempting to lash back at the kestrel with a giant paw. Eyes widening in fear, the kestrel desperately tried to avoid the hit, but the paw struck her side, sending her spiralling out of the air. She heard Oliver’s panicked shout as she collided with the wall, collapsing to the ground. Fortunately, she didn't hit the wall very hard, but it was enough to knock the wind out of the tiny kestrel’s form.

“ _FELICITY!_ ” Oliver yelled, struggling to his feet and sprinting towards her.

_...O-Oliver…?_

Everything was hazy and blurry, and her entire body felt numb, when she knew it should be experiencing pain. Attempting to flutter her wings weakly to get back on her feet, she shakily stood and stumbled backwards into the wall. The panther’s pained growling echoed throughout the warehouse, and through her dizziness and murky vision, and she could see the big cat rolling around on the floor, clutching his paws to his bleeding eyes. The poor, blinded, whimpering creature fled as Oliver ran past it, vanishing from sight.

“Felicity,” Oliver said, his voice trembling as he skidded to his knees and scooped her fragile kestrel form into his arms. “Are you okay?”

_I - I think I’m fine._ She tested her wings and twisted her form. It ached, but nothing seemed to be broken. Giving a reassuring, soft chirp, Oliver heaved a sigh of relief, standing on wobbly, injured legs and clutching Felicity to his chest. _Wow, I have no idea how you’re able to radiate this much warmth from just your chest alone, through your clothes, but it’s greatly appreciated, thanks, buddy._

“What do you mean, Felicity?” Diggle questioned confusedly, inching himself up the wall tiredly. His gaze fell upon the kestrel herself, and she winced. _Please please please don’t be angry, please don’t react badly._ “Oh shit.” He turned to Oliver. “Since when did we team up with shifters?”

“Since we’re friends with one,” the vigilante replied firmly. “Come on, we have to get outta here. All of us need some medical attention.”

_Can’t argue with that, mister - I’m pretty sure you’re bleeding from a cut on your chest, because you’re getting blood in my feathers._ Shaking herself and blinking furiously, trying to get rid of the dizziness, Felicity clacked her beak and nipped Oliver’s hand. He made a noise of annoyance and looked down at her. Realising what she wanted, he lifted her up so she could perch on his right arm and take off.

Circling above, Felicity watched carefully as Oliver got underneath Diggle again, supporting his weight. Very slowly, they began moving across the room towards the door. Oliver constantly glanced upwards, checking if she was still there, and when she could get a quick glimpse underneath his hood, Felicity could see that he was smiling softly up at her. Diggle seemed more wary, gazing at her with an impassive impression that sent chills down the kestrel’s spine. Giving a falcon call, she swooped towards the exit, beginning to lead them to safety.

_We get back to the Foundry in one piece… and that’s when the real hell starts._

* * *

Seeing Felicity being batted into the wall by the injured panther as if she was nothing but a fly made Oliver want to physically throw up. He was crumpled on the floor himself, pain lancing through his limbs and the claw-cuts across his torso throbbing violently, so he could absolutely nothing to help her or defend her as the kestrel fell to the ground, unmoving.

_No, no no no, Felicity, oh my god, OH MY GOD, FELICITY_. “FELICITY!”

He went straight past the panther, that was writhing on the ground, but he caught sight of bloody, torn out eyes that had been caused by Felicity’s talons being dragged through them. She had gone to try and defend him, and ended up being hurt herself. _Please don’t be dead, I don’t know what I’ll do if you’re dead, please be okay…_

“Felicity, are you okay?” he questioned urgently, unable to keep the shake out of his voice as he gently cradled her in his arms, trying to keep her close. He wanted so badly to unzip his green leather jacket and tuck her inside, carrying her to safety, but he didn’t know how badly she was hurt, and he didn’t want to aggravate anything.

The kestrel moved weakly in his hands, making a quiet chirp. Her soft feathers slipped through his fingers as she flapped her wings and twisted around, as if she was testing her pain. When she chirped again and tucked her wings, relief flooded through him. _Shit, I thought you were dead for a moment there. Never EVER going to let you come out into the field with me again, I can’t lose you, I can’t let you get hurt or put you in danger again._ He stood, ignoring the agony caused by a deep slash in his leg before heading towards Diggle.

His bodyguard looked bemused, but his eyes were set firmly on the kestrel. “What do you mean, Felicity?” he asked, obviously questioning why Oliver would call the bird of prey that. At the vigilante’s grimace, Diggle’s raised his head in sudden realisation and he said in a tight voice, “Oh shit. Since when did we team up with shifters?”

_You lay a hand on her and I’ll fucking decapitate you, Diggle._ “Since we’re friends with one,” he told him, in a voice that screamed, _don’t push me, don’t touch her._ “Come on, we have to get outta here. All of us need some medical attention.”

Felicity, who seemed to have recovered some, pecked him gently to get him to raise her up in the air on one arm. Immediately, she fluttered off and began hovering over their heads. Happy to know that she was going to stay nearby, but was also overhead so could see any possible threats approaching them, the archer slipped underneath Diggle’s shoulder and started to carry him towards the nearest exit. Felicity soared ahead, leading the way, ever so often turning to make sure they were following. When they reached the alleyway, the warehouse behind them, and it seemed like they had an all clear for the guards, Oliver began thinking more practically. He couldn’t carry Dig for much longer; he was a heavy man, and with the archer injured as well, he wasn’t sure how long he could continue supporting his bodyguard without crumpling himself.

“Felicity,” he called out. “Go and get the van started, Dig and I can make our way back there.”

Cheeping in acknowledgement, the kestrel flew off and vanished behind a corner. The two men hobbled along in silence for a few minutes. _Say something, Dig. I know you want to. Say anything. You gonna make a nasty comment about Felicity? You gonna judge her for being a shifter? Try, and you’ll have me to deal with. You might be my friend, but Felicity, she’s… more?_

“So I lie to you about something small and you blow up at me, but she lies about her very being and she gets a free pass?” Diggle questioned lowly.

“She was afraid, she wanted to tell us but she didn’t know what our reactions were going to be,” Oliver responded, sounding strained. “She was shaking when I found out, Dig. She revealed her shifting ability to me and she was trembling and flinching away from me the entire time. She thought I was going to try and hurt her.” He turned back sharply. “She thinks you’re going to try and hurt her too.”

“Shifters can’t be trusted,” Diggle snapped.

“I thought you’d be cool with shifters, considering when you worked in the army you would’ve worked with a few,” Oliver grunted.

“I was working with trained men, whose shifts were controlled by their commanders and officers, and their forms were working dogs and tamed animals. She, Oliver, is a wild shifter. She has a wild form, and isn’t under control. She could easily go rogue or feral and hurt somebody. That’s exactly what happened to that panther.”

“She isn’t a government army slave, that’s your problem with her,” Oliver hissed darkly. “I’m telling you right now, Diggle, you lay a single hand on her with intent of hurting, threatening or manipulating her… you will not like the consequences..”

“Why? She’s not part of the team,” Diggle said. “Or is there something else going on?” He raised his eyebrows pointedly. “Something you want to admit, Oliver?”

_You want me to admit that I’m head over heels for her? That I want to hold her and never let her go, and I want her to be mine? That I want to be with her, romantically, but I’m too much of a coward to confess that? That I don’t think I should be with her because I’m a shitty person, a dark, broken thing that doesn’t deserve her?_

“Nothing I want to admit to YOU.” He scowled sideways at his partner. “She’s under my protection, Dig.”

“Fine,” Diggle said. “She’s off limits. You better know what you’re doing, man.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“... She’s dangerous, Oliver, she’s an unknown and we don’t know what -”

“Shut up, Dig.” _You’ve made it perfectly clear that you don’t trust her, and you don’t trust my decision to trust her, but goddammit you will respect it. You’ll respect me, and most importantly, you will respect her._

“Dammit, Oliver, I’m your partner!” Diggle growled. “You have to listen to me.”

Oliver fixed him with a fierce look. “Let me make something clear. Felicity is not dangerous. She is nothing but a sweet, kind, extremely intelligent, helpful and empathetic human being that, yes, has the shifting ability, but there is not one evil bone in her body. She is a wonderful person, who has supported me and listened to me, as a kestrel and as a human. When it comes to my judgement of her, I don’t have to listen to you.” He took a deep breath. “And especially when we’re in the field, when I’m the one keeping us all alive, and I have to focus on our survival, I listen to nobody but _myself._ ”

Felicity poked her head out from around the corner of the alleyway, now back in human form. She looked exhausted, her clothes a state and hair a mess, grime streaked through the blonde. Her shoulders were slumped and she was limping slightly. The noticeable rumble of their getaway ride’s engine echoing through the space, she said hesitantly, “Um, Oliver?”

“Yes, Felicity?” he answered instantly.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Diggle grumbled.

“We need to go,” Felicity said worriedly. “Now. I did a quick flyover, and the police are on their way. We need to get out of here if you guys want to avoid getting arrested.”

“Right. Let’s go.” He motioned to Dig. “Hey, if you’re not hurting too much, think you can take his other side? Got my shoulder slashed in there and I need some help with his weight.”

Felicity nodded warily, very cautiously approaching them. “Right, sure…” She made a wide circle around them, and Oliver knew that it wasn’t him she was heedful of. That scared look of hers was back, fixed securely on Diggle, and the archer felt sick at the thought of the blonde being so frightened of his partner.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “Diggle’s not gonna hurt you. We talked and we came to an agreement.”

She swallowed and nodded, coming closer, but the tremble in her hands was noticeable to the eye and she seemed to be shivering. Ducking underneath Diggle’s other shoulder, she began helping the archer support his weight, but the tense way in which she was holding herself was helping nobody. The bodyguard leant away from her, disdain clear on his face. Felicity bit her lip and looked to the ground.

The vigilante shot Diggle a glare. _See how scared she is of you? Your first reaction made her think you were angry and unaccepting - she’s suspicious of you now. You better fix this._

Diggle caught on quickly. “Felicity,” he said roughly. “I’m sorry I scared you. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“Only because Oliver made you swear not to,” she whispered.

“I’m…” Diggle shot Oliver a helpless look, finally seeming to realise what his actions and reactions had caused. “I’m sorry, Felicity. I don’t want to hurt you, and I won’t hurt you. My past experiences with shifters when I was in the army weren’t exactly… pleasant. And that makes me wary of them.”

“Okay,” she said quietly.

The three of them hobbled slowly back through the alleyway to the van. Diggle clambered into the shotgun seat, and Oliver helped Felicity into the back of the vehicle and sit down on some cushions placed there before climbing into the driver’s seat. The journey back to the Foundry was quiet, spent in frigid silence. Whilst there was the relief of having rescued Diggle and the operation going okay, without any deaths, there was also the elephant in the room that happened to be the tension caused by the knowledge that Felicity was there, silently terrified.

They were nearing Verdant when Felicity finally piped up, saying weakly, “Oliver…”

He glanced back immediately. Felicity was slumped against the wall, eyes half closed and breaths coming out shallowly. She looked absolutely exhausted, curled up with her head tucked to her chest. Fear and concern struck the vigilante, and the van jerked slightly due to his attention being completely switched from the road to the blonde. Diggle made an irritated noise, but Oliver didn’t care - _oh god, Felicity, you look terrible. You’re not_ \- “Felicity?”

“I think…” Her bottom lip trembled. “I think I’m gonna pass out.”

_Oh shit, her dizziness earlier from hitting the wall - concussion? Or just exhaustion? Can’t let her fall asleep if it’s concussion._ “Do you feel sick? Dizzy? Don’t fall asleep, Felicity, it might be a concussion, you can’t fall asleep.”

“No, it’s… I’m tired,” she sighed, head lolling back so she could meet his eyes. And yes, she did look tired, extremely tired, like she hadn’t slept in days. “Shifted back and forth too many times, last shift back… back into human form… very low energy levels…haven't eaten today... just tired.”

His heart softened, and he said gently, “Stay awake until we get back to base, okay? You can nap on the cot there.”

There was no reply, so he glanced back again and sighed when he saw that she had already passed out, wrapped around a cushion. Diggle looked back as well, staring for a moment before turning back to look at the road.

“She’ll be fine,” Diggle said.

“She shouldn’t have been there,” Oliver said quietly. “She made a solid argument that she had to be, but I should have fought her more, I shouldn’t have given in so quickly.”

“Oliver, you worship the ground that girl walks on,” Diggle scoffed, not even looking at him, still just staring straight ahead. “When you say her name, you say it like she’s a goddess. She walks in the room, your attention’s completely on her. Let’s be honest, man, if she wanted to go out into the field, there’s no way you would have been able to stop her - her willpower is too great, and yours, when it comes to going against her, is non-existent.”

He was about to splutter in protest, but then he realised, _he’s right._

Parking the van in the alleyway behind Verdant, where one of the secret doors into the Foundry was located, Oliver helped Diggle to the stairs before turning straight back for Felicity. He watched her silently for a moment with a soft gaze and gentle smile, before carefully lifting her into his arms and carrying her down the stairs and into the Foundry. Cradling her to his chest, he paused and watched Diggle limping down to join him, making sure he reached the medical bench before moving into the back part of the Foundry, where the cot and living area was located.

As the archer tenderly tucked Felicity under the blankets on the cot, she shifted, whining and catching his hand with her own.

“Ol’ver?” she croaked.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he responded with a smile, squeezing her hand.

“‘Kay… Stay?”

“Yeah, I’ll stay overnight, just to keep an eye on you and make sure you don’t get ill.” He moved his hand up to her shoulder and stroked down her shoulder blade, smiling, before pulling away, planning to tend to his injuries and change into civvies.

Except Felicity weakly caught his wrist, whining again. “Hmm, no. Stay.”

A warm feeling blossomed in his chest. _She doesn’t want me to leave. She trusts me enough that she wants me to stay._ “I won’t be long, I promise. I’ve just gotta treat my cuts and change outta the suit.”

She groaned, pulling the pillow with one hand against her chest, so she was curled up around it. “Nooo…”

“I’ll just be a minute.”

“Nooo…”

“Yessss,” Oliver teased, brushing her hair with his knuckles. He chuckled at her groan. _You’re adorable, even when exhausted._ “I’ll be back soon, okay? Try and get back to sleep, you need the rest.”

It didn’t take him very long to change out of his leathers, take a quick shower and pull on some civilian clothing. Diggle needed a little bit of help taking his shirt off due to a particularly nasty slash on his shoulder, but as he vanished off into the shower room, the archer settled down next to the medical counter and began treating his wounds. Every few seconds his eyes would dart up from where he was carefully watching his hands clean out the scrapes with antiseptic to check on Felicity’s wellbeing. He would have expected her to be asleep when he finished up, but instead she was lying on her side, wrapped around her pillow and blinking at him tiredly.

Diggle was starting to clean his cuts on the other side of the room quietly when Oliver stood and approached Felicity slowly, a smile playing at his lips. The shifter didn’t say anything, simply just reached her hand out to beckon him closer. Catching his hand, she tugged him down so he was sitting on the side of the cot.

“Can you stay here?” she whispered, gazing past warily to Diggle.

“Diggle’s not going to hurt you.”

She averted her eyes. “If you say so.”

“Hey.” He gently lifted her chin with one finger so she was forced to meet his gaze. When she flinched, his heart sunk. _Please trust me, Felicity._ “You are completely safe here. Nothing is going to happen to you, and Dig and I won’t let anybody hurt you.”

She nodded, yawning again before curling up tighter. He leant forwards to draw the blanket over her. Realising that Felicity was still holding onto his hand tightly, Oliver swallowed. _Really don’t wanna let go, but if I don’t, would that be too forward? She’s almost asleep, that wouldn’t be fair on her…_ He pulled his hand away, heart panging at the small, disappointed noise she made.

“Oliver,” she said, when he shifted, preparing to move away. “Will you -” she hesitated.

“You can ask me anything,” he reassured softly.

She inhaled sharply. “Will you please stay with me until I fall asleep?” she asked in a small voice.

“Of course,” he replied instantly, settling his hand supportively on her blanket covered hip. “Of course, I will, Felicity.”

“Okay,” she murmured, eyes fluttering shut. “Thank you.”

_You don’t need to thank me for anything._

Oliver could feel Diggle’s eyes burning holes in his back as he sat by Felicity’s side, gently rubbing soothing circles into her hip and humming softly. Her eyelids slowly closed and her breathing evened out, but her hand didn’t loosen its tight grip around his fingers. It was only once he was certain she was deeply asleep that he pulled away and stood, stretching out with a wince. Tucking her loose strands of hair behind Felicity’s ear, he whispered, “Good night.”

“Good night,” she mumbled back.

He smiled. All self-preservation instincts disappearing, and rational thought vanishing, the archer bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. There was no reaction from Felicity other than a sigh and the tightening of her shoulders as she curled up tighter around the pillow. Straightening, Oliver turned and stared at Diggle directly in the eye. The bodyguard had been watching his every move, sitting at the weapons counter and cleaning his gun. They stared off for a moment, Oliver daring Dig with his eyes for him to do or say something in protest or disdain. Except, the bodyguard just nodded stiffly and went back to his gun. They had an understanding.

_Felicity is under my protection._

* * *


	4. ~ Part 4 ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is part 4 :) Thank you once again for all your amazing support and comment!! It's so great to know you're all enjoying reading the fic.

* * *

For once, Felicity woke up naturally from sleep rather than being forcefully awoken by an alarm clock or by her annoying neighbour knocking on her door to pester her about ‘Felicity’s’ cat. Huffing into the pillow she was lying curled around, she yanked the blanket covering her up to her chin before blearily gazing around her surroundings. The Foundry was as dreary and dim as it always was. Waking up to the faint dripping of water onto the floor and soft whirr of Oliver’s shitty monitor set-up, that she swore on her life she would replace, she was hit by deja vu. It was exactly like waking up in the lair when she was trapped there, whilst in kestrel form.

A fresh white shirt, obviously Oliver’s, had been folded and placed by her bedside, and Felicity quickly stripped out of her own old shirt and slipped the new one on, buttoning it up. She shivered at just the thought of wearing something of the archer’s - it felt so intimate, despite the fact she knew it was just practicality that caused the vigilante to leave it for her. It smelt like Oliver though - it was as if he was marking Felicity with his scent. Biting her lip, she glanced around to search for either the archer or his bodyguard, but couldn’t see either of them. _I’m parched - and starving. Oliver and Diggle have got to have some snacks and drinks in the mini fridge._

Creeping through the space, her socks cushioning the sound of her feet on the floor, she approached the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water and a sausage roll.

“Hungry?”

She practically jumped out of her skin, heat flickering in her form as for a millisecond she transformed instinctively into a kestrel. But the moment her form stabilised, she wheeled around and backed into the wall swiftly. Her breath was caught in her throat, and even as she realised who it was who had startled her, she started shaking.

Oliver raised his hands, asking concernedly, “Hey, it’s okay. You can eat and drink whatever you want. You have to be hungry and thirsty after everything that happened last night.” When Felicity didn’t move, still frozen with her back pressed into the wall, a look of understanding crossed his face and he took a step back, giving her space. “You’re okay. You’re fine, I promise.”

She nodded. _It’s not you that I’m worried about, it’s Diggle._ “Where’s, uh, Diggle?”

His gaze softened. “He’s gone out to get breakfast for us all. I wasn’t lying when I told you that he won’t hurt you. He’s not going to lay a hand on you. I know his first reaction wasn’t ideal, but he likes you, Felicity, he won’t act like that for long.”

“Breakfast?” Felicity repeated. _Okay, forget Diggle for a second, there’s going to be food?_

The vigilante rolled his eyes amusedly. “Of course that’s what you focus on.”

She scowled playfully, moving past him to take a seat in front of his computer set-up. “I’m hungry. What kind of food?”

“Well, according to Dig, Big Belly Burger now does breakfast muffins -”

“Yes,” she agreed hastily. _Any they’re fucking delicious. Bring me like seven. Please._ “Nice choice.” She span around in the chair, smiling back at the archer when he grinned. “Oh, and, um, thanks for the shirt, by the way.”

“It was the least I could do,” Oliver reassured, taking his own water bottle out of the fridge. “How are you feeling? When the panther hit you into that wall last night - that looked nasty. And painful.”

Felicity rubbed her arms. “A little sore?” she admitted. _My wings will be aching for ages, and I’m pretty sure my ribs are a little bruised, but it’s not bad._ “Nothing a hot bath won’t fix. How are you? How’s Diggle? I mean, you got pretty slashed up by the panther, and Dig was in a bad state when we rescued him.”

“I’m fine, it’s nothing I can’t handle,” Oliver dismissed. _Yeah, but you would say that about a four inch deep stab wound or a bullet wound as well._ “Diggle’s injuries were worse, but he says he’s okay too.”

She began munching on the sausage roll, flicking through Oliver’s computer set-up. “Good.” Not turning around, she added shortly, “I’m still very angry with you by the way. Even if I didn’t show it last night. I’m very angry.”

“Why?”

_Why? WHY? Wow. Wow, Oliver. Are you - you’re serious._ “You deliberately took your comm out to ignore me,” she said lowly. “I was advising you not to face off against that shifter, and what did you do? You confronted the panther. And I ended up having to save you.”

Oliver frowned. “Not saving -”

“Oliver Jonas Queen, I had to save your ass from getting ripped apart by that damn panther, and you know it.” She sent him a withering glare, which the archer winced under. _Yeah, cringe, Oliver. A freaking kestrel you can hold in one hand did a better job fighting a panther than you did._

“You dragging him, Felicity?” Diggle’s voice echoed down the stairs.

Magically, she managed to control herself enough not to flinch, calling back to the bodyguard in a clipped voice, “Yep.”

Oliver sighed. “No, she’s not.”

“Yes, she is,” Felicity said. “Because a certain emerald archer acted like a jerk last night.” She raised her eyebrows at Oliver, twirling around on the chair, as if to dare him to challenge her statement. _Both of us know that I’m the one who’s right._

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, brushing a hand through his hair, Oliver admitted, “Fine, I was a jerk. I shouldn’t have taken my comm out and I shouldn’t have ignored you like I did. You were correct, I was wrong. I’m very sorry for being so rude, and thank you for helping me with that panther.”

Felicity nodded, satisfied.

Diggle had just reached the bottom of the stairs. “An apology and a thank you?” he said, with a mock gasp of surprise. Pointing to the blonde, he added, “He likes you more than me, evidently.”

“He’s straight, so I think that would make sense,” Felicity replied, before freezing. “Or - ya know, he might not be.” Whipping around to face Oliver, she quickly continued, “And that’s totally okay, if you’re not straight, if you’re bi or something - well, I’d assume you would be bi, or pan, because you’re not gay - you’ve slept with too many girls to be gay - unless you were sexually confused, that’s fine - and I’m gonna stop.” _URGH, I hate heteronormativity. Why the fuck does society have to force people to define their sexualities?_

“I think that would be best,” Oliver responded flatly, but there was mirth dancing in his eyes. “Dig, you brought food?”

“I come bearing breakfast muffins,” announced the bodyguard, lifting up his Big Belly Burger bag in triumph.

“You have no idea how happy that sentence makes me,” Felicity smiled. “I am _starving_.”

“I suppose shifting back and forth expends a lot of energy,” Diggle said, passing her one of the muffins as he drew up a stool and took a seat.

Sensing the awkward pause in the room, Felicity jerked her head in a nod and looked down at her muffin, which her fingers had began to tear apart nervously. Luckily, she wasn’t trembling. _I look so weak shaking all the time whenever shifting’s brought up in conversation around new people, such a coward._ Oliver and Diggle were probably having a silent conversation over her head, exchanging glances.

“I’m sorry,” Diggle said. “I shouldn’t have -”

“No, it’s fine,” Felicity muttered.

“No, it’s not,” Oliver countered. “We should talk about -”

_Oh no, no no no. Not here. Not now. Not when you could never comprehend the suffering shifters have gone through, not when you don’t understand the enormity of the discrimination and prejudice._ “No offence, Oliver, but I don’t exactly want to talk about this sort of stuff with you,” Felicity interrupted. When hurt flashed over the archer’s face, she winced. _Shit, the puppy dog eyes. He’s mastered those puppy dog eyes._ “It’s kinda personal, and considering the universal attitude that seems to exist about shifters, and the consequences of that… it’s kinda uncomfortable for me to speak about.”

“Which is precisely why we should discuss it,” the archer argued.

“I don’t want to.”

“Felicity -”

“Oliver, I don’t want to,” she repeated, a little more urgently. Her breathing was already beginning to kick up, chest feeling tight. _No no, please not a panic attack now, NOT NOW._

Seemingly realising that Felicity was reacting badly, Oliver slowly approached her with his hands held out in the surrender position. He didn’t touch her, just hovering, but even that, with his presence so close to her, was enough to make the blonde feel confined. When she made a strangled sound, eyes squeezed shut and leaning away from him slightly, Diggle tried to place a hand on her arm. _SHIT NO, don’t let him touch you!_ She flinched just as Oliver’s hand shot out to grasp the other man’s wrist, pulling it away.

“Don’t touch her, she’s having a panic attack,” he said quietly.

Diggle raised his head an inch in understanding and suggested, “I’ll go and fetch the ice packs.”

Felicity had no idea what the ice packs were for, but the instant the bodyguard left the area, and there was no further threat of being touched, she relaxed. Oliver, meanwhile, stood a safe distance away with his hands still held out like he was placating a wild animal - which was kind of true, considering the kestrel part of her was fluttering her wings wildly in alarm, trying to take over due to the overwhelming fight, flight or freeze response.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Is there anything I can do?”

“I, um, I need you to step back a bit, please,” she whispered.

He nodded and did so, and immediately she was able to breathe more easily, although her exhales were shuddering and shaky. _God, that’s so embarrassing, haven’t had a fucking panic attack in nearly three years._ “Do you have them often?” he questioned.

She shrugged, blinking at her hands as she flexed them, trying to focus on the muscles instead of the fear and panic plaguing her. “I used to get them a lot, when I was younger I probably had an anxiety disorder or something. They’re not very common now, but there are a few things that occasionally trigger them. I don’t blame you,” she reassured. “You didn’t know.”

“Maybe not, but I still triggered it, and I’m very sorry for that,” he offered, drawing up his stool to sit opposite her. “I know what it’s like to have triggered panic attacks, it’s not very nice.”

“Yours are probably worse,” Felicity said. _No, don’t get into his PTSD, he won’t_ \- “I mean, your time on the island must have left you with mental scars as well as physical ones, and nobody could blame you for having some post traumatic stress.” _Goddammit, Smoak, why can’t you ever keep your mouth shut._

“That’s true,” Oliver admitted, to her shock. “But you learn to cope with it. Diggle should be back with the ice packs in a moment.

“Ice packs?” she repeated. “What are they for?”

“It’s a grounding technique,” the vigilante explained, just as his bodyguard reappeared with the ice packs in hand. “Sometimes people having a panic attack or flashback feel inclined to cause themselves pain or discomfort to try and ground themselves to reality, which is what I used to do by working out excessively. But the shock of temperature change works just as well, like squeezing ice packs.” He inclined his head. “Dig taught me that.”

“You were using up all the towels for showering after your excessive workouts,” Diggle grumbled, handing over two ice packs to the blonde. “There are other people who want to shower down here, you know. Namely, me.” He shot Felicity a sympathetic, concerned glance. “You feeling better?”

“Eh.” She shrugged. She didn’t want to say yes, because she was still feeling a little shaky and didn’t want to be touched or crowded, but it was true that she didn’t feel on the edge of a mental breakdown. “I think this breakfast muffin is cheering me up though.” She popped another piece of muffin into her mouth with a small smile.

Diggle nodded seriously. “The Big Belly Burger breakfast muffins are rainbows.” There was a brief pause, before the bodyguard came forwards a little closer, offering her his hand. With some hesitance, she took hold of it. “I really hope that we become good friends, Felicity,” he said honestly. “I didn't mean to scare you. I’m just a little wary of shifters due to some unfortunate past experiences.”

“What kind of experiences?” the blonde asked curiously.

The bodyguard shot Oliver a look as if to ask permission, before shrugging and reaching down to pull up his pant leg, exposing a rather vicious looking scar on his calf. Felicity’s stomach lurched - it was a deep bite mark. It would have seriously hurt. “Desert hare shifter, mercenary that worked for the enemy. Definitely wild. We were lucky that we got out alive.”

“... Did you say desert hare?” Oliver questioned incredulously. “As in, a _rabbit_?”

“Hey, those things can be ferocious, man! Never underestimate a rabbit!”

“That’s a sentence you don't hear every day,” Felicity sniggered. _Although, he is right, I wouldn't dare to tangle with a hare in kestrel form. Or a kangaroo. Damn, I hate kangaroos. They're evil._

Diggle rolled his eyes at them both, before his gaze centered on Felicity and softened. “Oliver told me that you were the one to alert him that I was in trouble. I probably owe you my life, Felicity. I know that we’ve had our differences - especially since you’ve pecked the shit out of me numerous times - and still maybe _have_ differences, and there’s tension, but I do hope we can get past that and become good friends.”

“Me too,” she replied shyly. _Okay, maybe he’s not as rude and mean a person as I initially thought he was… never gonna forget that vulture comment though._ “I have the feeling that we’re going to bond a lot over the idiocy of this one.” Tilting her head towards the archer, she grinned at Oliver cheekily.

Oliver probably would have scowled, if not catching on to what she was implying. “So you’re planning on sticking around?” he asked, trying to appear indifferent but actually sounding quietly hopeful, his eyes wide and blinking at her. _The puppy dog eyes strike once again._

“If you think I’m going to let you continue your crusade to save this city with a computer set-up like _that_ ,” she pointed in disgust at the monitor counter, “Then you’ve got another thing coming, mister.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, repeating amusedly, “‘Mister’?”

“Uh huh,” she smirked.

He smirked back at her. “Okay. So you’re in?”

“Would I be anything else? I think that if I’m not on the team, then you’ll get yourself killed. And, well…” She grinned. “We couldn’t let that happen, could we? Besides, Dig’s probably already fed up with your stubbornness.”

“Oh, I’m stubborn?” he teased.

She flicked her hair behind her with a smile. “Stubborn as a mule. Dig needs another person around to help him pull your head out of your ass. Yeah, I’m staying.”

Diggle looked between them as if he was watching a tennis match, before he turned to Oliver, cocking his head towards Felicity. “I like her. We’re keeping her.”

“Not a dog,” Felicity sighed.

“Nope,” Diggle grinned. “A kestrel.”

“Yep.”

“So, your shifter blood-line.” Diggle settled back in his chair. “Which parent did you inherit the gene from?”

Oliver quickly cut in, “If you don’t want to talk about it…”

“Oh no, I’m fine talking about that,” she reassured. “And my own personal shifting, it’s just the whole speaking about revelations, trust issues, attitudes towards shifters, thing… that’s what bothers me.” Squeezing the ice packs in her hands, Felicity sat back comfortably. “It’s a gene from my father’s blood-line. He was a bald eagle shifter.”

“Was,” Diggle repeated.

“He abandoned my mom and I when I was seven. He’s as good as dead to me.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” the bodyguard quickly apologised, surprised.

“Not your fault,” she waved it away. _Can’t even properly remember him anymore, apart from a few memories of him and Mom yelling and petting him when he was shifted._ “Anyway, since my dad was gone, I kind of had to learn all about shifting and stuff by myself, educate myself through online forums, research and secret groups. Learning about how exposed shifters are reacted to, regarded and treated was the worst part of it all. And shifting when you’re a beginner and haven’t learnt how to properly is a pain, literally. But it all worked out in the end.”

“Flying must be incredible,” Oliver said wistfully. “I mean, I can fly a plane, but flying _yourself_ , on your own wings, that freedom, it must feel -”

“Absolutely amazing,” Felicity agreed. “The wind in your feathers, the views of the world below you, the speed your wings can gain… it’s like nothing else in the universe.” She gave him a shit-eating grin, adding on, “But when you have a phobia of heights…”

“No,” Diggle shook his head. “You gotta be kidding.”

“I was terrified of heights as a kid,” she laughed. “Had to get over that fear pretty quickly once I discovered my shifted form. I think it annoyed my mom more that I overcame my phobia more than I had it in the first place. I mean, understandable, considering her kid went from refusing to stand on a roof to being addicted to cruising the skies at over 10,000 feet. And, god, those first few moults - feathers _everywhere_ , on the floor, on the sofa, in a cereal box at one point - I can never remember how that happened - but yeah, we were lucky she didn’t have an allergy or something, now _that_ would have been awkward.”

“Felicity.” Oliver was grinning.

_Oh shit, why didn’t he tell me to stop?_ “Please, for the sake of your sanity, when I start rambling like that, tell me to shut up.”

“But I enjoy your babbles,” Oliver said.

_He’s serious. He’s being honest. Oh man. What do I say to that?_ “Thanks?” she blushed.

He smiled. “You’re welcome.”

Diggle just stared between them, muttering, “Never before have I felt more like the awkward third wheel.”

Felicity froze. “What?”

“What?” Oliver echoed.

Diggle mumbled something inaudible under his breath before taking the ice packs away from Felicity and storming off, grumbling. Felicity bit her lip to hide her grin as the bodyguard walked away, Oliver watching him with a confused look. When the archer wheeled around to her, appearing bemused, she openly laughed. That caused him to smile back at her, sweeping one hand through his tussled hair as he ducked his head. _Aw, his smile is so beautiful. That’s the smile I want to see all the time, not that awful fake one he plasters on all the time in public._

“I smile genuinely at the people who make me feel like they appreciate my genuine smile.”

Felicity huffed an annoyed sigh. “I said that aloud, didn’t I?”

“Uh huh.”

“Yes, well,” she mumbled. “Your fake smile makes you look like a serial killer, not to mention that old haircut of yours before the island.”

“Don’t diss the haircut,” he protested.

“You made some really bad lifestyle - and just plain old _style_ \- choices, Oliver, you have to admit.”

Begrudgingly, he tilted his head. “... True,” he gritted out. “That haircut was… awful.”

“I much prefer this one now. And the stubble slash beard thing really works for you.” Before Felicity even knew what she was doing to stop herself, she reached out and stroked along his jawline, brushing her thumb softly over the stubble and feeling the bristly hair scrape over the pad. Once she realised, she went completely still, hand not moving from his cheek for a few seconds until, coming back to herself, she recoiled as if the vigilante was a hot flame rather than an incredible handsome archer. “Shit. I didn’t - I wasn’t -”

There was a fierce look in Oliver’s eyes, a fire glinting there as his smile grew and he caught her hand, squeezing it. “It’s okay. It was nice.” He paused, inhaling and licking his lips - _that is SINFUL, mister, stop that right now, it’s illegal for you to do that in front of me from now onwards_ \- before he questioned, “So how about that date?”

“The coffee date?” Felicity stammered. “As in - the coffee date, between friends, date?”

Oliver tipped his head back in a chuckle, before stepping forwards and taking her other hand, so both of them were being held tightly by his own in a warm, yet gentle, grip. “How about a coffee date, _date_ date?” he suggested softly.

_OH SHIT THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING. THIS ISN’T A DREAM, SMOAK. OLIVER FUCKING QUEEN IS ASKING YOU OUT ON A DATE. ON AN ACTUAL REAL DATE. OH MY GOD. HE LIKES YOU. HE’S ROMANTICALLY INTERESTED IN YOU. HE ASKED YOU OUT. ON. A. DATE._

Taking a deep breath and trying to steady her heartrate, because it was so high and fast that she could only hear the rush of pulsing blood in her ears, Felicity raised her head and said, “Ask me tomorrow.”

Oliver looked startled. “What?”

“A lot’s happened,” she said. “Yesterday, a lot happened, between us, changing our relationship, our partnership. You found out a lot about me, that most likely changed your perspective and opinion of me, and everything’s happening so fast. We can’t rush. We need to slow down. _This_ \- “ She motioned between them. “ - is going to crash and burn, if we stay at this pace. And I don’t want that to happen. I know how I feel about you. And I want this to work. So ask me again tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” she confirmed.

The archer stared at her silently for a moment, before his lips quirked in a smile. His beautiful blue eyes shone with happiness and light as he brushed one hand across her shoulder and told her, “Go home, get some proper rest. Eat some food, eat some icecream. Watch Doctor Who. You deserve a day off.”

“... and tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, we get to work saving our city,” Oliver said. “And tomorrow, I ask you out on a date.” He grinned. “And tomorrow, you say yes.”

* * *

_She’ll say yes, right? I mean, she implied that she would like to go out on a date, not that she was opposed to it, which is why she asked me to ask tomorrow? She’s trying to be sensible, not creating an escape route for herself. Felicity’s not that type of person. I trust her. I mean, she trusts me enough to trust me with her secret and join the team, so that means that we have a mutual thing going, right?_

“Where’ve you been?”

Oliver startled out of his thoughts to find himself just closing the door to the Queen mansion, Thea standing with her arms crossed in front of her. Diggle had driven him home after Felicity left, borrowing a sweater and getting a taxi cab. He didn’t really want to go home, but he was forced to, as he had accidentally forgotten his extra bag of island herbs in his room; he was using the herbs to make painkiller and antibiotic tea for both of them, so they could quickly recover from their injuries and get back to the mission at hand. The archer had been so distracted last night rescuing Diggle and making sure that Felicity was taken to safety after she crashed into that wall, that he had completely forgotten about his plan to face off against Sophia Warren. He would have to confront her tonight, before she caught onto the vigilante scrutinising her business and went underground. Considering the mess that was caused last night, it would be best to strike her off the list as soon as possible.

“Good morning to you, too, Thea,” he said sarcastically, pushing past her.

She caught his arm. He went tense for a few seconds, the sudden contact causing a very quick, fleeting flashback of the less kind, more violent touch he had experienced. Sensing his agitation, she drew back with a quiet apology before saying, “Mom’s pissed off with you for leaving the party last night.”

His soft smile at his sister vanished instantly. “What do you mean?”

“What happened with Felicity last night?” Thea changed the subject.

“Yes, I want to know that information as well,” Walter said, appearing without warning from the living room with a stern, unhappy expression on his face and hands clasped behind his back. Moira popped out from just behind him, shooting the archer a severe glance. “Care to enlighten us, Oliver?”

_Oh shit._ What did he say? He had to come up with something believable, but also he didn’t want to get Felicity into any trouble. Oliver needed to try and get some sympathy and forgiveness from his family. “I don’t know if you knew this,” he said lowly to Walter, “But Felicity has an anxiety… about meeting new people. Last night wasn’t particularly a pleasant evening for her.”

Walter’s attitude instantly changed. “Is she alright?” he asked worriedly.

“Fine now,” Oliver reassured. “But when I found her last night she was… in a bad way. She didn’t want to make a scene or cause a fuss, so I drove her home and made sure she was okay throughout the night, just in case she had another… episode. The only reason she let her help her at all is because I’ve gone through sort of the same thing. I would have called to tell you where we were, but my cell phone ran out of battery.” He shook his head, offering, “She feels absolutely awful about bailing on you, Walter. Please don’t blame her for what occurred.”

“I think if anybody is at fault, that would be me,” Walter sighed. “I certainly had no idea about her anxiety, if I had known I wouldn’t have requested her to come. I don’t suppose Felicity will be coming into the office today, will she?”

Oliver shook his head. “No, she woke up briefly when I left her apartment but she was exhausted, so I told her to stay home and sleep.”

“Thank you, son,” Walter squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll call and leave a voicemail for her, conveying my apologies. Will you be staying home today?”

“Actually, I have some business with the club, I only came in to grab my charger,” Oliver replied, attempting to at least sound like he was sorry, when in reality he was thinking _no way am I sticking around so Mom and Thea can berate me for hours on end._

Walter smiled and nodded before departing, pausing only to peck his wife’s lips and press a kiss to Thea’s forehead. Oliver was left alone with the two Queen women, and he stood awkwardly for a moment, feeling a little confined under his mother and sister’s gazes.

“Oliver,” Moira started.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to hear it.” _I’ve given you openings to communicate with me, and tried to show you what kind of person I am now, but you’ve ignored me at every turn._ “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Last night - what I said to you, accused you of -”

“Mom,” he cut in firmly. “Leave it. We’ll talk about it later.”

She looked troubled. “As long as we do talk.”

“We will,” he promised.

Moira nodded. “And Oliver… Miss Smoak… If you’ve decided that you want to pursue something with her - a relationship with her…” Pursing her lips, she finished softly, “I want you to be happy, Oliver, and if Miss Smoak makes you happy… Then who am I to disapprove?”

The archer jerked his head in a nod, a small smile gracing his lips. “Thanks, Mom.”

With one last glance at Thea and a wobbly, reassuring grin at his mother, Oliver stepped past them and surged up the staircase. _Thank god I told Dig to stay in the car._ As he reached the top, he realised that Thea was following him, and with a surrendering sigh, he slowed down so that his sister could catch up with him and walk by his side.

“So, was it good?” Thea waggled her eyebrows.

His brow furrowed. “Was what good?”

“The sex?”

“Thea,” Oliver growled, but there was a noticeable lack of venom in his voice. He wasn’t angry, just resigned. “I didn’t sleep with Felicity.”

“So you’re telling me that you drove her home, after she wasn’t feeling very well, and stayed at her apartment with her the _entire_ night, and not once did you make a move on her?” The disbelief in Thea’s voice was evident. She was watching his face carefully.

“She was upset, Thea,” Oliver said.

“And you didn’t use that to your advantage to get her into bed?”

“I was more worried about her mental health than wanting to get laid,” he responded, annoyed. “And to be honest, Thea, I’m a little offended that you think I would have sex with Felicity after I just told you she wasn’t in a good place last night.” _Not that I would be opposed to having sex with her. It just wasn’t an appropriate time. I mean, we were both fighting for our lives, not that you need to know that._

Thea waited at the doorway of his bedroom whilst he went in, quickly slipping the bag of island herbs into his pocket and covering up the action by also grabbing his cell phone charger. “But you do like her. As in, you _like_ like her. We determined that yesterday. Your coffee date thing, did you ever establish whether or not it was as friends or, ya know, something more?”

Sighing, Oliver straightened and ran a hand through his hair. “It was something more, I guess.”

“And how’d you know that?” Thea grinned.

“I, uh, might have asked her if the coffee date could be an _actual_ date this morning…”

“YES!” Thea punched the air in triumph. “My brother’s finally going on a date! His first date in five years! Wait, she did say yes, didn’t she?”

“She didn’t say no.”

“Hold up.” Thea raised a finger. “Did she agree to the date?”

“She told me to ask tomorrow,” Oliver informed her. “I guess it was sensible, I mean, a lot’s happened lately and it was a slightly inappropriate time. It was probably overwhelming. But, I mean, her asking me to ask her out tomorrow is a good thing, right? She said she wanted things to work out, she didn’t want to rush into things.”

Thea squealed, clapping her hands happily.

Oliver was a little alarmed, so questioned warily, “That’s good?”

“That’s _the best_ ,” Thea corrected. “It means she’s _definitely_ into you, big brother. She’s really, really interested in a romantic relationship with you. What she essentially answered to your question was a big, fat _yes_.”

“So she does want to go out with me.” _That’s a relief._

Thea side-eyed him, sniggering. “Wow, you’re head over heels for this girl. Are you really that concerned about her wanting to go on a date with you?” At the archer’s glare, she laughed. “Ollie, she wants to go out with you. You’re fine. Ask her tomorrow, and she’ll say yes.”

“... do I call her now and ask if she wants to meet up tomorrow?”

“Uh, sure, if you want to sound like a desperate single, which is pretty lame,” Thea replied. “You gotta let her come to you. Or, at least, you’ve gotta be subtle.”

He nodded, as if he understood, when he really didn’t. He wasn’t exactly very well versed in proper dating and courting etiquette. “So I invite her to lunch?”

Thea face-palmed. “Yeah, we’re gonna need to work on your definition of subtle.”

“Help me out, here, Thea, I was stranded on an island for five years, I’m kind of out of sync with these kind of things. And before the Gambit, I was anything but a gentleman when it came to women.”

“Nope, you’re on your own,” Thea said. “Learn by doing, brother. I’ll help you out if you massively screw up, but you’ve gotta tackle the dating thing by yourself.” She headed down the stairs, glancing up at him with a smirk. “Keep me updated, Ollie.”

“I will.”

“Oh, and also, if you hurt Felicity, I’ll cut your balls off.” With a lovely, sisterly smile, she skipped down the rest of the staircase and ambled off happily.

Oliver watched her go, alarmed. _Note to self - don’t upset Felicity if you ever want to be able to have children._

The rest of the day was spent training, making arrows and planning the confrontation of Sophia Warren. The making arrows part took up the most time, mostly because Diggle wanted to learn how to make arrowheads and kept on cutting his big fingers when trying to sharpen them. At least it gave Oliver a laugh. The archer ended up texting Felicity half way through the day, asking her how she was doing, and she responded back with a comment about inappropriate nap time lengths and asking whether or not it was healthy to eat a pint of icecream within an hour. Oliver ended up laughing and replying by saying that you only ever had to stop eating icecream if you felt sick.

He was finishing his sixth rep on the salmon ladder when Diggle called up from the computer set-up, “Heads up, Oliver, we’ve got a visitor.”

Letting himself fall onto the heels on his feet, Oliver grabbed a towel to wipe his sweat off before coming over. The CCTV camera set up at the secret alleyway entrance to the lair showed a small bird of prey fluttering and hovering in mid-air, obviously waiting to be let in. Heartbeat spiking in elation, Oliver yanked on a shirt before jogging up the metal staircase to the door.

“You’re meant to be at home resting,” he said, making sure disapproval could be heard in his voice, but it was cancelled out by the fact he was smiling at the kestrel. Holding his wrist out, the bird landed on it, stretching her wings with a playful chirp. Beating her wings, Felicity bobbed up and down in the air until she was perched comfortably on his shoulder. “We’re gonna have to install a cat-flap or something for you, so you can come and go in kestrel form.” A nip of his cheek with her beak made him wince. “Sorry, sorry, bad joke. Let’s head inside.”

Diggle shook his head in amusement as Oliver descended back down the stairs with the kestrel on his shoulder. “Felicity, now I know that it’s you,” he said, chuckling. “Let it be said aloud - you’re a really fucking tiny bird.”

She screeched, beating her wings, before settling down but still looking frustrated.

“My hand is bigger than you,” Diggle continued. “I mean, some of the dead crickets I fed you were half your size.”

“Alright, Dig, I think she gets the point,” Oliver rolled his eyes. “She’s a small bird. American kestrels are typically very small.”

Diggle laughed. “Still rearing up in defense of her, huh? What about that time she coughed up that half-digested mouse into your coffee?”

_Oh my god, yeah._ Very slowly, he turned his head to gaze at her. If kestrels could look sheepish, Felicity did at that moment, shifting her wings. “Did you do that on purpose?”

She chirped, as if insulted.

“I dunno, man, you were using Bing instead of Google,” Diggle grinned.

Within seconds, Felicity had vacated Oliver’s shoulder and was sitting on Diggle’s shoulder, flapping her wings and shrilling at the archer angrily, which only made the bodyguard crack up with laughter. The vigilante crossed his arms. _I thought I was her favourite._

“It was a mistake.”

“If Felicity was in human form, she would say it was a felony.” Diggle reached a single finger up, which Felicity hopped down onto so that the man could hold her close to his chest and stroke her feathers softly.

Oliver raised one eyebrow, looking directly at the kestrel. “So I used Bing… does that mean that I’m not your favourite now, and Dig is?” Felicity spread her wings out to half span, looking between the archer and the bodyguard, before she chirruped and nuzzled her head into Diggle’s palm. _Oh, I see how it is. Well, let’s see if I can trigger your memory._ “Who was the one to call you a vulture that ate birdseed, again?”

“Hey, don’t deliberately turn her on me!” Diggle scowled.

Felicity reared her head up slightly, flapping her wings as she made a noise that sounded like a cackle. By beating her wings, however, she ended up slapping Diggle in the face several times over, which made Oliver laugh on seeing the bodyguard’s scrunched up, annoyed expression. Felicity wiggled out of Diggle’s arms and flew off, landing on the salmon ladder bar that was resting on the bottom rung.

Oliver grinned at her. “Huh.”

“Felicity, if you’re happy to hang out there, Oliver and I need to sort out some of the finnicky details concerning him confronting Warren tonight,” Diggle said, changing the subject back to business, which was probably a good thing. The archer knew that he certainly wouldn’t have got back to work if the bodyguard hadn’t brought it up. _I kinda get distracted when Felicity’s around._

They went back to planning, Oliver pointing out access points, with Diggle writing down the vigilante’s route into Warren’s building and past her security guards. Noting that she had, in fact, doubled the number of guards, most likely due to the events of the previous night, they determined that the bodyguard would have to join the archer in the field, simply for safety reasons, and to cover Oliver’s back. The archer knew that it was inevitable, and the smartest decision, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“If you’re out in the field with me, we don’t have anybody manning the comms or shutting down the alarm system,” he argued. “And you have to do that from here.”

“I can’t let you attack that building knowing you’ll be going up against over fifty armed guards -”

“Half of which I will be able to avoid -”

“But they’ll still be two dozen more you’ll have to fight, and if even one of them gets away, the element of surprise will be lost.”

“Sorry to interrupt you, boys,” Felicity piped up from the back of the room. Both men turned; the IT girl was perched up on one of the counters, having flown down from the salmon ladder and shifted. Her legs swung back and forth as she stated, “You know, there is a way for both of you to go out in the field, and still have somebody here on tech.” Her eyebrows quirked upwards.

Oliver rubbed his forehead with one hand. “Felicity…”

“I’m part of the team, right?” she asked.

“Yes, you are indeed part of the team.”

“Then let me actually do something,” she pleaded. “Let me help you guys out.”

“It’s meant to be your day off.” _You deserve a rest, after everything you’ve gone through._

“I get bored easily,” Felicity said. “I’ve finished all the boxsets on my current to-watch list and I’ve run out of icecream.” She slipped off the counter, approaching the archer whilst wringing her hands. “I won’t come into the field, I’ll stay right here on comms and manage everything technical for you. Let’s be honest, that’s my expertise. That’s where you want me.”

Diggle turned to Oliver. “It’s a good plan.”

The vigilante glanced down at the floor for a moment, swallowing, before he looked back up and questioned Felicity lowly, “You sure you can handle this?” _I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. I’d never forgive myself if you got in too deep and drowned._

She didn’t even blink. “Positive.”

He bit his lip, casting his gaze downwards before he nodded. “Alright. Let’s do this.” _Please don’t make me regret this_ , Felicity. But seeing her excited expression, the archer sighed. _I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?_

* * *

“ _Sophia Warren, you have failed this city!_ ”

“Get wrecked, bitch,” Felicity crowed smugly to herself, tapping away at the keyboard, keeping her eyes carefully fixed on one of the monitor screens as she continued switching the CCTV feeds, keeping an eye on the perimeter. Realising that her comm was live, however, she blushed and muttered apologetically, “Oh god, sorry, totally forgot that this was an open line. I’ll let you guys get back to your thing - that _thing_ being shooting arrows, threatening, a little _pew pew..._ ” _Okay, Felicity, time to shut up._

“I think I’m gonna enjoy having you on comms, Felicity,” Diggle chuckled.

Oliver grunted once, as if acknowledging what was going on, before he started angrily yelling at Warren, voice modulated so it was low and gravelly, quite scary even Felicity had to admit. As Warren started pleading and whimpering for mercy, before abruptly beginning to threaten the vigilante back, the IT girl zoned out of the confrontation. She began humming under her breath quietly whilst sorting through the computer coding, installing some Cobalt encryption to secure the set-up, every so often glancing at the CCTV screens to make sure that the archer wasn’t going to be interrupted. She couldn’t help but grin at the sight of Diggle leaning on the wall outside of the room patiently, playing tetris on his cell phone, waiting for Oliver to finish up.

It didn’t take long, however, as within ten minutes, Oliver had Warren confessing about the underground brothels in a frantic scream. The entire thing was being recorded by a recording device arrow, and Felicity had uploaded the evidence of the existence of the brothels, and their locations, onto a burner USB stick for the archer to leave for the police. Glancing at the CCTV, Felicity could see that the vigilante was now tying Warren to a chair. _Yep, that’s right. Don’t mess with the Hood Squad._

“We are _not_ calling ourselves that,” Oliver’s gruff voice said, but it came out sounding like a whine. 

Felicity hadn’t intended to say that aloud, but she couldn’t resist snarking back to him in response, “What, would you prefer us to be called the Starling City Vigilante Club?”

“I’d prefer us to be called nothing at all,” the archer replied annoyedly.

“Who are you talking to? Your shifter partner?” Warren snapped.

Oliver yanked the zip ties a little tighter around the woman’s wrists, that made her yelp. “Whatever gave you the impression that I work with others?”

The woman scoffed. “When you rescued one of your partners from my interrogators yesterday, you had a shifter with you, a bird shifter. Whoever they were, they ended up permanently blinding my head of security.”

Oliver stayed silent for a few seconds on the other end of the line, so Felicity piped up, “There’s not really any point in denying it, Oliver, I might have erased all CCTV footage of what happened inside the warehouse, but all of the guards and the panther shifter were witnesses.” _And there’s no way they’d be able to ID me, all they saw was a bird. Couldn’t even identify my species._

“Are they listening in on us right now?” Warren continued. “Bird shifters are rare, and it would be most advantageous to have one in my security team - whatever the Hood’s paying you, I’ll double it.”

“If you don’t want an arrow in your shoulder, I would shut up,” Oliver snarled.

“Scratch that, I’ll triple it. The shifter has to be resilient to be able to tolerate somebody like you.” She sneered at the archer in disgust.

“Oliver,” Felicity said calmly. “Please could you very politely tell her to _fuck off_.”

Diggle laughed.

“They’re not interested,” Oliver translated with a smirk. “And, for the record,” he added, “I don’t pay them anything.”

“Nothing?” Felicity teased, mock disappointed. “Nothing at all?”

“We don’t even get dental,” Diggle said.

“Complete outrage. I’ll have to bring it up with HR.”

“There are three of us, Felicity, there is no HR.”

“No, no,” she insisted. “One of us has to be HR. What if one of us wants to file a complaint against the other?”

“That’s true. Then I nominate Oliver for HR.”

“No, he can’t be HR, he’s the one we’ll be complaining about.”

“Also true.”

“Let’s keep the comm chatter to mission talk, please,” Oliver sighed, exasperated.

Felicity laughed. _Oh, you’ll have to get used to mid-mission banter, buster._ She checked CCTV. “Police are here. Leave the USB and recording arrow behind, you might want to make a quick jump out the window.”

“Nah, he’s got a weird alliance thing going with one of the cops,” Diggle said. “He’ll stay behind to hand it all over personally.”

“What cop?” _Please don’t let it be a female, please don’t let it be a female…_

“Detective Lance.”

“Wait, the Detective Lance that wants to arrest and put the Hood in prison and has also shot at the Hood multiple times Detective Lance?”

“I said it was weird, not that it made any sense.”

Oliver growled. “You know, I’m beginning to think that helping you two come to an understanding to become friends was a bad idea.”

Felicity sniggered, but went silent after that as Oliver had to shoot a zip-line cable arrow across to the top of a lower, smaller building. The archer and Diggle zipped on down to the roof, at which point Diggle said he’d make the short trek back to where they’d hidden the van, switching his comm off. Oliver waited for the detective to arrive, as only officers could be seen milling below so far. _Kind of weird that Oliver’s got a sort of partnership gig going on with a detective that has been attempting to arrest and shoot him for months. Wonder how that came about._

“It was thanks to you, actually.”

“Shit,” she groaned. “Why do I always end up saying my thoughts aloud?” _Well, at least he hasn’t been subjected to some of my worse ones. Probably a good thing I was in bird form and couldn’t speak when he did the salmon ladder shirtless for the first time in front of me._

“It’s cute,” he chuckled. “But yes, essentially whilst you were staying in the Foundry as a kestrel, my killing rate dropped. I handed over more of the people on the List to the police, with evidence of their misdeeds. It was only really for three weeks or so, but it apparently loosened Lance up a bit; he still hates my guts, but he’s a lot more accepting of the Hood.”

“But you went back to killing after I left.”

“The people I killed then deserved it. But yes, you’re right, because of that, there might be some tension. We’ll just have to wait and see whether or not Lance greets me with a lowered handgun, or the barrel pointed at my head.”

“Be careful, Oliver,” she said worriedly. _By the time you find out whether Lance is pissed off at you or not, it might be too late for you to make your escape._

“Always am,” he promised. “So, did you enjoy your first mission?”

“Yeah, it was great.”

“You certainly sounded like you had fun,” he teased, which made her blush, but the the archer’s voice stiffened and he said firmly, “But really, we do have to remember that we’re doing a serious job here. Sometimes things will go sidewise, and they won’t go to plan. Sometimes people will get hurt or die. We’re fighting a war. It’s nice that you can laugh and joke during the mission, but we can’t forget that we’re ultimately dealing with people’s lives.”

Felicity struggled to swallow the lump in her throat at his words. “I know,” she said weakly. “I’m sorry, I won’t forget that.”

“Also, I don’t think it would be a good idea for you and Dig to quip over the comms again,” Oliver reasoned. “Only because we can’t have the Hood cracking up in laughter when he’s aiming at arrow at somebody.”

She grinned. “No, that wouldn’t do.” Pausing briefly, Felicity continued hesitantly, “Oliver, are you completely opposed to me being out in the field with you?” _Please don’t react badly and start yelling at me._

He sighed heavily. “Felicity…”

“I know you don’t like the fact that I’m in danger, and that it’s risky, but I really think I could be a real asset out in the field,” she tried. “I mean, I’m not desperate to get out there with you and put on a hood to shoot arrows by your side, and it would only be in emergencies or for easy missions, but I really feel like it would be good to have me flying overhead occasionally. To watch your back. Last night - and I know it was a semi-disaster - it was such a rush being able to help you like I did. And like I said, I’m not exactly dying to do that again, but I’m not against it, if you know what I mean.” _That sounded logical and it all made sense in a strategic way, Smoak, well done._

“I do know what you mean,” Oliver admitted lowly. “And as much as I hate the thought of you out there in your kestrel form, in so much danger… I can’t dismiss it entirely, because I know that one day, Dig and I might need you on overwatch.”

“Overwatch,” Felicity smirked. _Yep, that’s my new codename. Not telling you that now, but that is gonna be my codename in the future._

“Lance is here,” the archer cut in. “Stand by.”

Quickly switching to CCTV of the alleyway and front of the building itself, it took the blonde a while to figure out where the archer was standing after he jumped down to the ground. It turned out that green actually was a pretty good urban camouflage, because it took her a few minutes to make him out, standing just behind a dumpster. Oliver was out of sight enough that people wouldn’t notice him unless they were purposefully searching - which was exactly what Lance was doing. The detective was standing back from the building, away from a throng of officers, and sweeping his narrowed eyes around suspiciously, definitely looking for the archer.

“Maybe you should wave or something,” Felicity suggested. Oliver chuckled in response, at the precise moment that Lance’s gaze stopped on the vigilante and the detective launched into a brisk walk, striding towards him. “Watch him in case he pulls his gun on you.”

“I think we’re fine,” Oliver said quietly, before raising his voice and greeting the approaching man, “Good evening, Detective.”

“Not so much for Warren,” Lance replied dryly. “At least she’s arrow-wound free.” Oliver chucked him the USB stick. “What’s this?”

“Information about her underground brothels, including the locations of them and a list of her clients,” the archer explained. He handed over the recording arrow. “Recording of her confession on there.”

“Yeah. Y’know, she just tried to avoid arrest by bribing us with info about you?” Lance sounded amused.

“I doubt she had anything substantial.”

“She told us you had a partner.” Lance raised an eyebrow. “A shifter.”

_Wow, that’s gonna change the entire face of your operation._ “And he’s struck gold,” Felicity muttered, rolling her eyes. “Not. You can tell him about me, Oliver, it’s not as if knowing a shifter is helping you is gonna lead him to my identity. Or aid the anti-vigilante task force in any way. Tell him I said hi.”

“She says hi,” Oliver repeated obediently. The IT girl could hear the smugness in his voice.

Lance’s disgruntled and slightly resentful tone which he had been addressing the archer in before completely transformed, and his voice was swamped with concern as he questioned, “‘She’?”

“I didn’t say give away my gender!” Felicity complained. “Thanks a lot, Oliver!”

“You told me to tell him that you said hi, and that’s what I did,” he responded. “Why should informing him of your gender matter?”

“It matters because you’ve dragged an innocent girl into your shitty, dangerous operation in which you murder people on a weekly basis, and she probably had no idea what she was signing up for,” Lance seethed furiously. “The hell are you thinking? She could get killed!”

“Would you be saying all that if I hadn’t disclosed her gender?” Oliver growled. “She can handle herself perfectly well, Detective, she knows exactly what I do, and the consequences of that, and frankly, I think you’re being a little sexist.”

“Thank you!” Felicity crowed, leaning back in her chair and throwing her arms up in the air. _Exactly! Why should the fact that I’m a woman suddenly make me vulnerable?_

“I’m not sexist, just angry that you seem to have a _thing_ for using women,” Lance snarled. “First my own daughter, then Helena Bertinelli, now this girl?”

Oliver huffed. “I am not having this conversation with you.”

The vigilante whirled around to leave, but as he did so, Lance drew his handgun and pointed it at the archer’s back. Oliver was completely oblivious of the weapon now aimed at him.

Felicity jumped to her feet, exclaiming panickedly, “Oliver, behind you!” _DON’T GET SHOT!_

Turning back around, the archer gazed steadily at the detective, not even flinching at the sight of the firearm. “I know,” he replied to the IT girl quietly. “It’s okay, he’s not going to shoot me.”

_SURE LOOKS LIKE HE IS._ “Oliver…” she whispered shakily. _Can’t get shot, can’t lose him, can’t watch or hear him die in front of me, please, God._

“Shh, it’s alright,” he soothed, not moving at all, she could see thanks to CCTV. “Take a breath. He won’t shoot me. He just wanted me to stop.”

Now that Oliver was facing him again, Lance’s grip on his gun wavered and he lowered it slightly. “You talking to her?” he asked.

“She’s upset because she thinks you’re going to kill me,” Oliver responded.

“She cares about you.” The detective narrowed his eyes. “You care about her.”

“I do,” Oliver nodded.

Lance nodded, seeming to digest this information, before he pointed his gun at Oliver and said, “You make sure that girl stays safe. She gets hurt, and I won’t hesitate to pump you full of lead.” He turned away and began walking off. “I’m gonna catch you, ya know.”

“Uh huh,” the vigilante replied amusedly.

“Gonna arrest you, get you tried in court and sent to jail for a long time.”

“Sure,” Oliver humoured. “Good night, Detective.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance grumbled, finally walking out of view and back towards the building.

Felicity watched the detective leave on screen, before switching back to the CCTV camera focusing on the archer. Oliver was standing silently, completely still, in the middle of the alley, apparently lost in thought.

“Oliver,” she said softly, startling him out of whatever headspace he was in.

“Yeah?”

“Come home,” she whispered. _Come back to me._

He nodded and wheeled around, firing a grappling arrow to clamber up to the roof, heading back to Diggle and the van. The weight that had been sitting in Felicity’s chest like a boulder settled, rather than lifting, so she set to distract herself by getting to work on deleting all the CCTV footage of Diggle and Oliver in the building; the police wouldn’t check the tapes for evidence the vigilante was there until they had Warren locked up in custody at the main station, so that gave her a few hours to destroy the evidence. It seemed that Oliver had taken out and turned his comm off pretty soon after reaching the van, so nothing came through.

The sound of the Foundry’s side door, back towards the training area, grinding open startled Felicity out of her chair, and hearing the soft conversation between the two men sent tendrils of an inexpressible emotion lashing through her human form. Within seconds, the heat had burnt through her and Felicity was zipping towards Oliver and Diggle in kestrel form, giving a harsh falcon call.

Oliver seemed to have already prepared himself to have the bird pelting at him; as she collided with his chest with a frantic flapping of wings, he immediately handed off his bow to Diggle so that he could cradle her with both hands.

“Hey,” he greeted her gently. “You did great for your first mission, well done.”

_Thanks, but that’s not really what this weird kestrel attack hug is for_ , Felicity replied. _I’m just making sure that you weren’t an imbecile and somehow got yourself injured… also I really need the hug. For emotional calming purposes._

“What, no hug for me?” Diggle said, crossing his arms as he framed the doorway.

_Sorry, buddy._

“She likes me the most,” Oliver teased, although there was a note of seriousness in his voice. He nuzzled his chin down into Felicity’s soft feathers whilst he walked them over to the computer set-up counter. Felicity started squirming slightly in his grip. _Okay, enough hugging now, this is uncomfortable._ “Want me to put you down?”

She chirped the affirmative and he loosened his hands so that Felicity could flutter out of them, hopping onto the counter with a sharp clack. At that point, both Oliver and Diggle had to go off to shower and change back into normal clothing, which gave Felicity the perfect opportunity to shift back and curl up in what she had deemed her chair with a freshly made cup of hot cocoa. _I mean, for Oliver and Dig to have that much cocoa powder down here means that at least one of them has to have a guilty pleasure. There were even mini marsh mellows. I will figure out the cocoa addict here, mark my words._

Oliver was drying his hair with a towel when he returned, clean and now dressed in jeans and a royal blue button down shirt. Felicity had to look away for a moment, because as he hung the towel back up, his hair looked wonderfully rumpled and it was doing things to her brain. “I see you found my cocoa.”

“Ha! So you’re the cocoa addict!” she shouted, pointing at him triumphantly.

Oliver raised an eyebrow in amusement. “You’re gonna judge me for my cocoa addiction?” He leaned inwards, taking a glance inside her mug. “You even found my mini marsh mellows.”

“I did, and they are mine now.” She sipped the cocoa, flashing a grin at him.

He chuckled. “Want to order food?”

Felicity checked the time. _23:54._ “Little late, isn’t it? It’s nearly midnight.”

“It’s never too late for pizza,” Diggle said, appearing behind Oliver from the bathroom. “I’ll do a run. Two pepperoni and a hawaiian?”

“Please,” Oliver nodded. “Grab some sodas and chips as well, whilst you’re out, yeah?”

“Got it,” Diggle agreed. He rested a hand on Felicity’s shoulder briefly as he passed her, which made her smile. “You did good, tonight, rookie. Looking forwards to having you on the team if your comm snark is a regular thing.”

“Oh, definitely,” she confirmed, grinning.

The bodyguard inclined his head at Oliver in respect as he shrugged on his coat, exiting the Foundry, which left Oliver alone with Felicity. The blonde shifted nervously in her seat, kicking her heels back and forth. _Do I wait for him to talk first? Or do I talk first? I should probably talk first. He isn’t very talkative unless he wants to be._

Surprising her, Oliver rested back on the weapons counter and questioned cautiously, “So how do you think tonight went?”

Felicity shrugged. “Good, I suppose. We completed the mission, nobody got hurt. I’m sorry for freaking out over comms when Lance pointed his gun at you.” Glancing down at her hands, she tried to slow her erratic heartbeat as she asked quietly, “Did you mean what you said?”

“About what?”

_Don’t fuck this up, Felicity._ “When Lance stated that you cared about me… you agreed. Did you - I mean…” _Shit shit shit._ “You meant it?”

His gaze was soft, and his tender blue eyes calmed her slightly as the archer answered, “Of course I did. I do care about you, Felicity.”

_Okay, okay, ask the question but do NOT mess this up. Don’t scare him away - what am I saying, he’s like a skittish puppy, what if this makes him bolt? No, Felicity, gotta have more faith in him than that. He asked you out yesterday, you told him to wait, now it’s time to see whether or not he’s really, properly interested in you - emotionally and romantically._ “In… a friends sort of way,” the IT girl whispered, “Or… in a more than friends sort of way.”

“Su - well, the implication of more than friends - I mean, defining the difference between platonic and roman - uh, um -”

“Usually I’m the one talking in sentence fragments,” Felicity teased gently, smiling.

The vigilante cracked a smile, murmuring, “Felicity…” His eyes danced sideways to the monitor. “It’s tomorrow.”

Felicity swallowed and turned to look herself. _00:02._ The next day. Her heart seized. _Oh my god… is Oliver going to…_ “It is.”

Slowly, the archer stood, moving towards her in such a graceful, smooth way that it reminded her of a leopard stalking prey - and considering she was the bird in the situation, Felicity twitched, breath hitching as Oliver carefully took hold of both of her hands. It was as if the limbs were numb within his hold, and the blonde stared at her hands being held within his larger, calloused ones, before raising her eyes to his face. Her breathing completely stopped for a moment. The compassion and warmth deep within the cobalt, as well as the hint of nervousness, made her feel like the world was slipping sideways.

_Against those eyes, you’re helpless, Smoak._

“Felicity.”

She jerked her head in a head at him. “Hmm?”

He flashed her a blinding, beaming smile. “More than friends,” he said. “I care about you in a more than friends sort of way. And… I’m kind of hoping it’s reciprocated.”

_Oh holy god. Don’t just stand there gaping, REPLY._ Felicity shakily exhaled, her stomach twisting in elation as she replied softly, “It is. Reciprocated, that is. That would be… a thing that is true.”

The archer’s smile only grew in size, and once again she was treated to that beautiful, genuine, happy grin. “Felicity Smoak,” Oliver breathed. “Would you like to go out on a date with me?”

“Yes,” she responded, and she couldn’t hold back the tears of absolute joy springing into her eyes. “Oh god, yes.”

“Tomorrow?” Oliver asked hopefully.

_Who the heck cares if social norm says that’s too soon._ “Tomorrow. Coffee?”

He shook his head, looking simply radiant with glee. “I was thinking dinner.”

“You want to take me out for dinner?” she whispered. She could hardly believe this was actually happening.

The archer’s smile turned very slightly sad as he reached up with one hand and tenderly tucked a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear, his warm hand brushing against her cheek gently. “You deserve the very best, Felicity Smoak.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

He chuckled. “It really should be me saying that to you, you know.”

“The fact that you’re saying that, Oliver, makes me certain that’s not the case.” _You’re a wonderful man, with a good heart and good morals. You might be hurting and carrying a lot on your shoulders right now, but I will do everything in my power to make sure that smiles stays on your face._ “Just a quick check - you’re not gonna get angry at feathers being left on the sofa, right?”

He laughed. “No, I think we’re good.”

“And you’re not gonna freak out if a kestrel randomly flies slash crashes into you at random times?”

“No,” he chuckled.

Felicity nodded surely. “Then I think we’re good.”

Oliver grinned. “I think we’re perfect.”

_We’re perfect._

* * *


	5. ~ Part 5 ~ Epilogue ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Geniewithwifi just reminded me that I colossally fucked up by forgetting to post the last chapter of the fic on Saturday, so here it is. Late. Sorry :/
> 
> But we finally made it to the end! Let me assure you all - this is NOT the end of this 'verse. I have lots of plans for oneshots and side storied.
> 
> Olicity first aate? Check. Olicity first kiss? Check. That awful angsty story that you all want, that ties into Felicity being a rare shifter and therefore being possibly valuable on the black market? Check.
> 
> Thank you all so much for remaining with me on this ride :) I really appreciate all the comments and kudos and all your kind words and support. I have had such an amazing time writing and posting this fic, but I definitely wouldn't have if not for you guys. Special thanks to Geniewithwifi and bushlaboo who have both even basically cheerleading me since I first got onto Tumblr and started writing fanfics. You've both always been there and I love you too much. *hugs*

**TEN YEARS LATER**

* * *

_I can’t believe that this is my life._

Oliver sighed. He was currently sitting in the Bunker in front of Felicity’s computer set-up next to his little sister, bare foot and munching popcorn as they watched his wife have the time of her life out in the field. It wasn’t a normal work night - Oliver had recently had a surgery on his knee that was desperately needed if he wanted to continue as the Green Arrow, and Thea had requested the night off from Speedy duty. The rest of the team, including Mr Terrific, Wildcat and Artemis, were off helping Barry and Team Flash in Central for the week. It still felt weird for Oliver knowing that he and his wife had swapped jobs for the night, though.

“Ya know,” he started, trying to sound casual. “I really don’t think this is a very difficult job. Taking pictures of gangs buying illegal weapons… I mean, I definitely could’ve handled this -”

“Honey, you had knee surgery two days ago,” Felicity interrupted. “You are not getting into those leather pants when your knee is swollen to the size of a bowling ball.”

“Listen to the wife,” Diggle said. Oliver could see him, the CCTV footage they had up on screen showing Spartan following Overwatch through an alleyway, towards the warehouse they were going to be staking out.

_I do listen to Felicity, still doesn’t mean I’m not gonna worry about her when she’s in danger - which she is, whenever she’s out there. Especially when she’s in the field without me backing her up._ “I’m just not entirely happy with her -”

“ - if you say out in the field, again,” Felicity cut in. “You will be sleeping on the couch. This is like, my two hundredth mission. I _think_ I know what I’m doing by now.”

Thea threw a handful of popcorn in the air, obviously trying to catch some in her mouth, but epically failing. “Honestly, Ollie, I usually have a lot more confidence that the mission plan will be executed safely when Felicity is out there rather than you.”

_Oh, burn._ “Thanks, Thea,” he replied dryly.

“You’re welcome,” she grinned.

Thea had been part of Team Arrow as long as Lance had now. She had originally joined to get protection from Malcolm - her evil father had tried to encourage Thea to let him train her for some time, and after Moira’s death, it had been a tempting offer. Thea probably would have taken it, if not for Oliver and Roy. It had been her love for her brother and boyfriend that caused her to stay in Starling; Roy’s refusal to lie to her about being Arsenal had resulted in her being drawn into the Team Arrow circle very early, before Slade had told her about Malcolm being her father, and the deep bond between the Queen siblings that had been born out of Oliver’s trust to include Thea in the secret, meant that Deathstroke wasn’t able to break their trust in each other. Thea had run comms and helped with intel and funds after their mother’s death - it was only after Sara had been struck down by Merlyn that his sister had demanded to be trained in fighting and archery. Ever since then, she’d been a valuable field agent for Team Arrow.

His wife and Diggle talking quietly about connecting the camera feed via bluetooth pulled the archer back to the present with a resigned sigh. “Please, tell me why Felicity has to be the person doing this tonight?” Oliver questioned. “Rather than Dig, or the rest of the team when they get back tomorrow?”

“Because Mom is the best at recon.”

Oliver’s feet hit the glass flooring with a thud as he wheeled around in the chair, to be met with the sight of his seven year old son innocently gazing up at him through the railings, with his sheepish step-grandfather standing just behind him. It was easy to see that Tommy was his and Felicity’s child - he looked like the spitting image of Oliver when he was younger, with sandy hair and sparkling blue eyes, but he had Felicity’s nose, and definitely her smarts. Tommy had an IQ way above the average twelve year old - his speech was impeccable, and his intelligence unrivalled in his grade class.

“Thomas Robert Queen,” Oliver said seriously, in his stern parent voice as he stood with his arms crossed. “What have we said about coming down into the bunker when Mom and Dad are on a mission?” _I must have repeated it to him three dozen times._

“Not to disturb you,” Tommy replied, wide blue eyes blinking at his father. “But Grandpa Quentin said I could come down.”

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose, heaving a sigh with closed eyes before turning to his father in law. He hadn’t exactly been thrilled when Quentin had married Donna, his mother in law, three years ago, but he did have to confess that their relationship was a lot better; Quentin had joined the team back when Sara had first returned, and become a vital member before Curtis had even properly joined. Nowadays, the archer saw a lot more of the older man due to his proud title of champion babysitter. Well, that and the fact that they worked together every week, since Oliver was the mayor, and Quentin had a major position on the force.

“Grandpa Quentin said that, huh?” the archer raised an eyebrow. The police commissioner shrugged helplessly. _Does he have a secret grudge or something?_

“Sorry,” Quentin muttered. “But he shifted and kept on trying to fly out the window, it was the only way I could get him to stop.”

“Thomas,” Oliver snapped. “What did Mom say about shifting?” _Comes into the ability early and suddenly there’s no control. Knew those super-smart genes of his from Felicity’s side would end up being a problem one day._

“Only to do it when she’s around - but Dad -”

“No,” he interrupted sternly. “You knew the rule, and you broke it. No archery lessons this weekend.”

“Daaaaddd!” Tommy whined.

_Just ignore him, as long as he doesn’t give you the puppy dog eyes, then you can continue being the smugly correct parent._ Oliver turned away from his son and tilted his head at Quentin, silently asking him for a status report.

“Donna has Abby back at the Loft,” Quentin explained, referring to the archer and Felicity’s two year old daughter. Abby was usually the favourite child of babysitters. She was quiet, constantly happy and listened. “She fell asleep pretty early on. ”

“GA, Overwatch is about to shift,” Diggle’s voice came through.

“Uncle Dig?” Tommy perked up, and before Oliver could catch him, his athletic son had scrambled under the railing onto the platform and bounded up to his aunt, taking his father’s seat as he swung around on the chair.

“Oliver Jonas Queen, what is our son doing there?” Felicity shouted.

“Hi Mom!” Tommy replied happily, before Oliver could reply.

“Hi Tommy,” Felicity responded calmly, before going back to yelling, “Oliver, he should NOT be there!”

“Quentin brought him!” _Yep, laying the blame on him, I didn’t plan this._

Felicity growled, which made Thea laugh. “Quentin…”

“He shifted and threatened to fly off out the window,” the police commissioner tried to explain urgently, jogging up the steps. “Honest to god, sweetheart. Promising to bring him down was the only way I could get him to shift back.”

“Tommy,” Felicity said warningly.

“Yep?” the seven year old answered, without a care in the world.

“You know you’re not meant to shift into your merlin form without me there, young man. You gonna apologise to Grandpa?”

“Sorry, Grandpa,” Tommy muttered.

“Good boy,” Felicity praised. “Is Dad there, baby?”

“Uh huh.” The little boy wiggled around, tiny hands holding the back of the chair as he stood up on it, looking back at his father. Thea surged upwards to place both hands on her nephew’s waist to make sure he didn’t fall. Oliver couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “Dad, Mom wants you!”

“I heard,” Oliver nodded. He turned back to Quentin, flashing him a grateful look. “Thanks for looking after him this evening, Thea and I can manage him from here. Sorry for any inconveniences… you and Donna okay to look after Abby ‘til tomorrow morning?”

“Abby’s no trouble,” Quentin reassured.

“Unlike Tommy,” Oliver quirked an eyebrow amusedly. _Yep, that’s the Queen genes. I’m the only one to blame for that._ “Thanks. See you at nine tomorrow.”

“Yup. Good luck with the mission.”

Quentin departed swiftly, most likely glad to see the back of the little gremlin. Hobbling back to his seat, wincing at the small pangs of pain due to his knee swelling, Oliver lifted his son up so he could settled back down. He was about to place Tommy on his lap when Thea offered to take him, motioning at his knee. With a grateful nod, the archer passed the seven year old over, and Tommy happily snuggled into his aunt, eyes fixed curiously on the screen. _Has his mother’s inquisitiveness, and his father’s recklessness._

“Right here, hun,” Oliver replied, tapping at the monitor. “You about to shift?”

“She was ready to shift about two minutes ago, but then your spawn had to make an untimely appearance,” Diggle replied teasingly. “Hey, Tom-Tom, you causing chaos with your Grandpa again?”

“I made him say the ‘S’ word,” Tommy relayed to his uncle proudly. “ _Twice._ ”

“Good job!” Diggle crowed. Oliver cleared his throat loudly, frowning, and he knew that Felicity would be shooting their long-time partner a scathing and unimpressed look. “Uh, I mean… that’s bad, Tommy. Grandpa Quentin shouldn’t be saying those sort of things.”

“No, he shouldn’t,” Oliver said pointedly.

“We’ve both said a lot worse in front of him, Oliver,” Felicity admitted.

“Oh, what exactly have you two been saying in front of my favourite nephew?” Thea asked, clamping her hands over Tommy’s ears, that made the boy giggle uncontrollably.

“Thea, he’s your only nephew.”

“For now,” Thea waggled her eyebrows.

Oliver shot her an annoyed look, before turning back to comms. “Okay, Overwatch, Spartan, if you’re both ready, let’s get this recon underway. Arsenal, you copy?”

“So you do remember me,” Roy muttered. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten I was here. Where I have been waiting. For five hours. I’m pretty sure I ate like ten spiders out of boredom whilst I was in fox form earlier. I even called Lian and told her a bedtime story.”

“We get the point, Arsenal, you’ve been very patient,” Oliver rolled his eyes.

Roy had been forced to take up his position early because of the times the gates were closed and locked; when Felicity was shifted, no fences or gates held her back, thanks to her wings, but Roy’s shifted form, a fox, meant that he was very much stuck on the ground. The archer could still remember how Roy had joined the team - after Oliver had saved the young man from the Saviour, there had been no choice but to take Roy back to the Foundry. The poor kid had suffered a major panic attack and instinctively shifted into his fox form, whimpering, as soon as the Saviour had collapsed, dead to the ground. The Hood’s identity wasn’t revealed to him straight away, but from that point onwards, Roy had worked intel and some minor recon for the team, his fox form able to get him into the tightest of spots so he could listen in and gather information. Felicity had trained him to control his shifting, as the kid had never been properly taught how to shift by will. After the archer had returned from Lian Yu, still devastated by the loss of Tommy due to the Undertaking, Oliver had divulged his secret identity to the fox shifter.

His sister slamming her hand down onto the counter startled Oliver out of his memories. “Wait, you got to tell Lian a bedtime story?” Thea repeated, in a whining tone. “No fair!”

Lian, Thea and Roy’s four year old daughter, was currently at a sleepover at Sara Diggle’s. Lyla loved the little girl, especially since she had a certain knack for parkour, even at her young age (Roy swore up and down that it was a genetic thing she had inherited from him). “Can we get back to the mission, please?”

“It was your son that interrupted it in the first place,” Felicity grumbled.

“Our son,” Oliver corrected. “And Tommy is gonna be a very good boy and not interrupt anymore. Aren’t you, Tommy?”

Tommy cocked his head sideways, biting his lip. “Hmm.” He shrugged, smiling wickedly. Little troublemaker.

“We’re on a time schedule here,” Diggle said. “Are we gonna do this mission or not?”

“Yes, we are,” Felicity confirmed. “I’ve been dying to stretch my wings lately, let’s do this.”

The mission was completed seamlessly, like it always was when Felicity was out in the field. Roy and Felicity, snooping around with little Go Pro cameras attached to them, definitely got enough evidence to ID all the leaders of the new gangs. Oliver snuggled Tommy into his chest whilst Thea downloaded the videos remotely and attached them to an anonymously sent email to the police. Once the archer knew that his wife, partner and brother-in-law (it always felt weird calling Roy that) were heading back to the bunker together, he was able to relax.

“Dad,” Tommy piped up, having not spoken for the half an hour the mission had taken place for. “When’s Lian gonna have her first shift? When’s Abby?”

Seeing as Thea had skipped off to the bunker’s living quarters for a shower, Oliver lowered his son into her seat in front of him, resting his elbows on his knees and chin on his laced hands. Smiling softly, he answered, “I dunno, buddy. Everybody’s different. Your Mom was nine, you’re seven.”

“But when Mom first shifted,” Tommy said slowly, “It wasn’t safe for her, was it?”

“Why’d you say that?” Oliver questioned, heart skipping a beat.

Tommy looked down at his lap, face screwed up in concentration. “In my history lesson today, Mrs Teller was talking about the Shifter Laws and she said that I was just born when they happened. But Mom’s a shifter and she’s old so she would have shifted before the Laws, right?”

“Don’t let your mom know that you called her old,” Oliver chuckled, flicking Tommy’s nose teasingly.

“Dad,” his son looked serious. “Mrs Teller said that shifters before the Laws were killed.”

Oliver inhaled sharply. _He’s seven years old, he shouldn’t be learning about this. Where’s Felicity when I need her? No, Oliver, calm down - this is your son, you’re his father. He chose to come to you and talk about this. You can do this._ “She shouldn’t have told you that, bud.”

“But it’s true?” Tommy asked.

_Well, I can’t lie to him._ “Yes. But Mrs Teller shouldn’t have been teaching you about that.”

“But she said she teaches all her 6th graders about it.”

“Yes, but they’re eleven years old, Tommy,” Oliver said gently. “They’re older than you. You’re only seven.”

It had been a massive decision for he and Felicity to allow their son, in second grade, to get private 6th grade tuition. It had become obvious to Tommy’s elementary teacher that he was way above average in intelligence, possibly at genius level, and therefore the 2nd grade work was too easy for him. Felicity had started teaching their son algebra at the age of six, for god’s sake. Oliver had hated the idea of putting Tommy in a 6th grade class with older boys and girls, and Felicity had been terribly worried about him being bullied, but the teacher had made a great case for private tutors, so Tommy was receiving extra lessons for Math, English, Science and History at a 6th grade standard, every Tuesday and Thursday. It seemed, however, that Mrs Teller, the tutor, hadn’t thought that teaching a seven year old about the darker side of before the Shifter Laws had been passed was inappropriate.

“But I know about killing, Dad.” Tommy avoided eye contact, swinging his legs back and forth. _Right, Felicity and I had that conversation with him last year, when we gave him the secret identity talk._ “Before the Laws happened, did…” he hesitated, before asking in a scared whisper, “Did people try and kill Mom because she’s a shifter?”

Oliver tried to swallow the lump that formed in his throat. He had to hide his hands to stop his son from seeing how they shook. He and Felicity hadn’t spoken to Tommy about the incident that had happened a year before he was born, the life-threatening, traumatic incident that had, in fact, triggered the Shifter Laws, against discrimination, hate crime and giving all equal rights to shifters, to finally be passed. He was too young to understand. _God, I wish Felicity was here. She would no what to say. What to do. I’m so out of my depth here._ “Why’d you ask, buddy?”

“Are people gonna try and kill me because I’m a shifter?”

“Oh, son.” Oliver reached forwards quickly and lifted Tommy onto his lap, hugging him tightly against his chest. He could feel the boy’s tears soaking into his shirt from where he was crying silently into his shoulder. “No, buddy, of course not. Nobody is gonna lay a hand on you. Wherever did you get that idea?”

“Mrs Teller -”

_I will murder that bitch._ “Tommy, whatever Mrs Teller told you, it’s not true.”

“No, Dad, but…” Tommy squirmed and pulled away. “We were looking on the internet about the Laws, ‘cause I wanted to see pictures, and when the Mr President signed the big piece of paper, there were angry people who had signs and they said -” his son’s sniffles signified to Oliver that he was about to start crying again, so the archer yanked him back into a hug. “They said all these mean things like shifters were wrong and shifters were monsters, and that it’s unnatural and we’re wild animals so should be locked up.” Tommy’s voice was a terrified whisper as he murmured, “Daddy, am I a monster?”

Oliver could feel the tears in his own eyes as he choked out, “Oh god, baby, no, of course not. You’re not a monster, Tommy, you’re absolutely wonderful, you’re special. You’re a miracle, you’re mine and Mom’s little miracle. You are not wrong, or unnatural, Tommy, you’re our light in the darkness, and you’ll always be our angel.”

“But the pictures -”

“Tommy, those people were scared and jealous, all those things are not true.” _You can’t believe those things, Tommy, they’re so wrong._ “Before the Laws, people were worried that shifters couldn’t control their animal forms, and some shifters have scary animal forms, don’t they? They’re not like Mom or Uncle Roy, they’re not birds or foxes or dogs or cats, they’re big lions and wolves and bears. And people were scared of being attacked, so they tried to hurt them, because they thought they were protecting themselves. And then some people, Tommy, they really wanted to be shifters, but they weren’t from the bloodline, so they couldn’t have an animal form, and they got really jealous and angry. They were so angry and upset that they thought that if they couldn’t be shifters, then nobody could, because it wasn’t fair.”

Tommy nodded, his head buried into Oliver’s shoulder, but the vigilante could still sense some tension straining his son’s body; the boy’s hands were gripping his shirt, and the tears were still flowing. “‘Kay, Dad.”

“Hey, bud. Do you think that _I_ think Mom or Uncle Roy are wrong, when they shift?”

“No.”

“How’d you know that?”

“Because you let Mom sit on your shoulder and you stroke her feathers and stuff. And you and Uncle Roy play fight on the mats.”

“Right.” _Okay, this is getting somewhere._ “Would I do that with them, if I thought they were wrong?”

“No.”

“Right. Because I love your mom, and Uncle Roy is like my little brother. What about you, do you think that I think you’re wrong when you shift?”

“No. ‘Cause you snuggle with me and preen my feathers and you taught me to fly.”

“Do you think that Aunt Thea, Uncle Dig, Grandpa, Grandma and the rest of the team think that Mom and Uncle Roy and you are wrong?”

“No,” Tommy whispered, smiling softly now. “Because they love me and we have movie nights with popcorn and icecream and go to the zoo and park together, and we give each other kisses and hugs and tickles.”

Oliver smiled back at him, stroking down his son’s hair. “You are not wrong and you are not a monster, Thomas Queen. You are loved, and you have a massive family to prove that. You’re a shifter, but all that means is that you’re very special and -” he winked. “You can make everybody else jealous because you can fly.”

Tommy giggled. Oliver grinned. _Crisis averted. ___

“Can I teach Abby to fly when she shifts?” Tommy asked excitedly. “Please, Dad? Please?”

_Uhh… how to reply, how to reply?!_ “You’ll have to ask Mom.” _Nailed it._

“Ask me what?”

Felicity entered the room with Diggle just behind her and a young fox padding at her heels. Oliver immediately stood, letting Tommy down so that their son could run up to his mother and crash into her legs, wrapping his arms around them in a hug. The blonde smiled, ruffling Tommy’s hair before scooping him up in her arms and snuffling into his neck. The snuffling had become a favourite kind of tickling for both mother and son, mostly because it just made Tommy laugh so much. Instantly, the boy began giggling even harder.

“I wanna teach Abs to fly,” Tommy insisted, pressed his cheek to Felicity’s. “Please, Mom? I’ll be a great teacher, I swear!”

Felicity turned to Oliver. Oliver shook his head frantically, mouthing, “No.” _Even with you helping me to teach him, Felicity, he ended up crashing into a wall twice. I very much would like my daughter to stay alive._

“I’ll think about it, squirt,” Felicity promised. “Now why don’t you and Uncle Roy go and play?”

“Can I shift?”

Felicity shot a look down to the fox, who was now sitting on his haunches innocently. “You keep your claws away from my son’s feathers, you got it?” The fox chuffed, stretching out and swishing his brush. Pressing a kiss to Tommy’s forehead, the blonde let him jump down. “Off you go.”

Watching with a grin as his son shifted into his tiny merlin form and rode on Roy’s back as the fox trotted away into the living quarters of the bunker, as soon as they were gone, Oliver started towards his wife. His knee still ached, but knowing he was going to end up in his wife’s arms made that pain irrelevant and unimportant. Felicity hopped up one of the stairs to meet him half way. Pressing a gentle kiss to her lips and exhaling relievedly with a sigh, Oliver tipped his forehead onto hers, wrapping an arm around her waist. He could feel Felicity smiling into his lips.

“Hey,” he muttered huskily, pressing another smaller kiss onto her lips before drawing away slightly. Oliver ran his eyes up and down her form suspiciously, checking her for injuries. His wife seemed fine. “Went okay?”

“Went perfectly,” Felicity responded, brushing her fingers down his forearm. “You, um…” She tilted her head towards where Tommy had disappeared. “You handled that quite well.”

He sighed, drawing away. _Buzzkill, much, wifey?_ “You heard all that?”

“Well -”

“Yes,” Diggle cut in bluntly.

Oliver slowly turned his head towards his partner and stared at him pointedly. He didn’t have to glance to the side to know that Felicity was pinning Diggle with the exact same look. Realising that they wanted him to leave, their partner rolled his eyes and walked off without saying anything, heading towards the locker room. _I mean, I kind of feel awful for making him leave… but also I don’t, because now I get to kiss my beautiful wife without somebody watching._

He tried to lean in to kiss Felicity again, except she sighed and placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly. “Oliver…”

Tipping his head down to rest on the shifter’s shoulder, the archer murmured, “We need to get a new tutor for Tommy.”

“Yes, we do,” Felicity agreed softly. “I know that you’d rather not have dealt with that at all, but you did do a magnificent job of explaining things to him. At the weekend, we should probably sit him down and have a talk about it.”

“I’ve always wanted to keep that darker side of the world away from him.” _The darkness infected me like a virus as soon as I was alone and vulnerable, and it took me years to shake that, even with your help. I have to keep Tommy and Abby safe from that corruption._

“I know, honey,” she sighed. “But we chose to have kids despite how unforgivable and cruel the world can be. Now we have to prepare them for it.” She nudged him, entwining her hands. “Come on, it’s late. I’ll give you a mission debrief in the morning; right now, we should head home and put Tommy to bed.”

“We’re awful parents letting him stay up this late,” Oliver laughed. “It’s, what, two am? And our seven year old is playing around in our secret lair with his uncle. Surrounded by lethal weapons.” _And Felicity does not know about the archery lessons I’ve been giving Tommy, and it’s gonna stay that way._

“Well, we’ve always done our parenting differently,” Felicity teased. “I had Abby down here in her diapers last week, playing Jenga with Evelyn in front of the salmon ladder.”

“You know what’s really weird,” Oliver said, leading her down the steps and towards the back of the bunker, where Roy and their kid had disappeared only minutes before. “Even before we had Tommy and Abby… we were sort of like parents. I felt like the disgruntled father when we trained Renee, Evelyn and Curtis. Even with Roy -”

“He calls us his adoptive parents as a joke, you do realise,” Felicity interrupted hurriedly.

“We’re getting old, Felicity,” Oliver smiled.

“Not really,” his wife replied, affronted. “I mean - I’m only thirty four.”

“We have a family,” Oliver continued. _One I would defend with my dying breath._ “We have a new team... Well, a larger team, and we have a legacy now. You have your own company, of which you’re the CEO of -”

“Queen Inc. belongs to both of us -”

“And I’m the mayor. Thea’s deputy mayor, Roy owns Verdant, Lyla’s head of ARGUS, Diggle runs his own private security firm, Lance is police commissioner, Donna has her own bar.” Oliver halted in the doorway, his grin widening as he caught sight of the small merlin corkscrewing down to tap the fox’s head, who was batting his paws in the air at the bird. “Look at how much we’ve accomplished, Felicity. Look at how much we’ve changed. We’ve grown so much. I mean, Thea and Roy have a daughter. We have two kids -”

“Three,” Felicity corrected in a whisper.

Oliver froze. _What did you just say? Did you just say what I think you said? Three kids? But Tommy and Abby and… oh my god._ “Felicity?” he questioned, twirling around to place his palm against her stomach, eyes growing wide in excitement. “You’re…?”

“You’re gonna be a dad again,” she smiled, tears in her eyes as she saw his happiness.

_OH SHIT. I did not see this coming._ Oliver gaped in astonishment, before picking his wife up and twirling her around in joy. “You’re pregnant! We’re pregnant! We’re having another baby?” _WAIT A SECOND_ \- The archer plonked her back down on the ground. “Why the fuck did you agree to go in the field if you knew you were pregnant?! Jesus, Felicity, you can’t be reckless when you’re -”

“Oliver,” Felicity interrupted dryly, smirking. “You really going to get into this, now?”

“You’re not going out into the field again,” Oliver said protectively, hand stroking over her belly. “Not whilst you’re carrying my child.” His eyes started watering again. “Our child. You’re pregnant.”

“Don’t cry,” she said gently, wiping away his tears whilst pressing up against his chest, embracing him. “What kind of big, bad vigilante cries?”

“The kind that just found out he’s gonna have another baby,” he whispered, grinning into her shoulder as he hugged her. “Felicity, we’re having another baby.” _You complete me. You saved my life, and you always will. You lifted me out of the darkness and into the light, you were my glowing beacon of hope, you gave me everything I ever wanted - safety, happiness, a family - you’re the love of my life, and I am never letting you go, ever._

Pulling back, Felicity yanked both his hands over her stomach, covering them with her own as she smiled, eyes shining. Tommy came running up in human form at that point, exclaiming excitedly about a trick Roy had taught him. Roy approached from the side, and seeming to realise what had just been revealed, he smiled and offered them quiet congratulations, promising not to tell the others, so they could reveal it themselves.

Hand in hand with his wife and son, Oliver walked through the bunker with the largest grin on his face, feeling like there were no limits that bound him.

“I’m happy.”

* * *

**The End**

_... Of The Beginning_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :) Hope you enjoyed. Please leave kudos and comment! Really appreciate it!
> 
> Tumblr: @alexiablackbriar13  
> Twitter: @lexiblackbriar


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